Poisonous Prisoner
by OliviaLee101
Summary: Based on the Thor movies and Norse Mythology, beginning at the end of the movie Thor: The Dark World. Loki disguised himself as Odin and Thor was away reconstructing the damage of the war. This is what happened in Asgard between an Elf Gná and Loki. Rating for T and will start anther story if some M-rank scenes are minder: I'm Chinese writing in English! So, be gentle!
1. Chapter 1

I am truly sorry for the mistake I made, that is- I confused Volstagg, the huge guy with red hair with Fandral... I can't tell you HOW sorry I am! Thank you, mememe, to let me realized that and thank you for your support and review.

This is the story after I set the names right. Hope you can forgive the stupid mistake I made and still love this. Please.

Again, my apology.

* * *

**Poisonous Prisoner**

**Chapter One**

_**Something's wrong.**_

**Gn****á ****looked around. The Gladsheim was, as it always had been, grandeur and extremely quiet. Standing in line under the broken columns, the soldiers looked heartbreakingly tired.**

**She walked slowly past them, gazing everyone, in case any eye contact was made. She wanted to comfort them. But no one stared back at her. At last, she gave up the idea.**

_**Indeed, how can you heal others when they don't have any strength to recover, how can you cure others when you are wounded much more severely?**_** She despised herself for not realizing it earlier.**

**The victory of the war didn't work as she had imagined. With Thor far away rebuilding what was destroyed on Earth and Frigg gone along with so many Asgardians, sorrow casted the whole realm.**

**But all hope was not lost. Odin looked different today, stronger, not as old and helpless as the day before. He even smiled and said to her:**

"**Gn****á****, don't be such a spoiler, enjoy the triumph the victory brought to you! Though the loss was great, we shall never miss the chance to celebrate a victory. Tonight, Gn****á****, hold a feast. Drink, dance and sing the song of the Mighty Asgard!"**

**For everything she had prepared herself to hear from the All Father, an idea organizing a celebration was certainly not on the top of the list. So, she cautiously looked up under her eyebrow to check if the elder meant what he said. He seemed sincere enough.**

"**But My King, people are in grieve…" She whispered, too afraid to state out aloud.**

"**People, are what we lead them, Gn****á. They ****will never stop grieving until I guide them to do so. Why not free them from the monster of sorrow while I still can? I remember there was a time when soldiers would drink for ten days without interruption. People love celebration, especially my dear son Thor."**

**When he pronounced Thor's name, a trace of mild light sparkled in his eyes. She only caught a glimpse of it since she dared not to stare at Odin for long, but the sight of it had imprinted deeply on her mind.**

**She bowed and turned to leave. Before she reached the exit, Odin called from behind:**

"**Oh, and Gn****á****?"**

**She turned, this time having no choice but to look the All Father straight in the eyes. Odin's deep blue eyes bored directly into hers, a rather weary smile spreading on his wrinkled face.**

"**Yes, My King?" She asked quietly, feeling her heart beating violently inside of her chest, threatening to make itself be heard by the insightful man across the room.**

"**Please don't blame yourself for the Queen's demise. I'm aware that you've silently taken the burden on those delicate shoulders of yours. It is very noble yet unwise to do so."**

**Odin's face had much more power than his gracious word, hitting so hard on the bleeding scar in her heart that when she opened her mouth to speak, tears rushed into her eyes and blurred her view.**

"**But My King, I am her maid. Assisting the Queen was the only job I had in this realm. It was my obligation from the first day I arrived and it was the only reason that I let myself share the privilege of Asgard. Without this job, this responsibility, this **_**bless**_**, I am nothing but a pitiful—**

"**You mustn't use so harsh a word on yourself, ****Gná****, not when I am still the King of Asgard, the protector of the Nine Realms, the All Father of the Universe. If there should be one truly responsible for my Queen's death, it would be me. As a King, I failed to protect my people; as a husband, I let my wife face terror and death alone; as a father, I watched my two sons split apart and let Loki fall into the darkness doing nothing to stop him…" As he spoke, his gaze no longer focused on her, and his voice no longer held it's authoritative tone of a King. He seemed to be talking to himself.**

**More guilt burdened her heart as the elder continued, but she refused to weep, even though she knew Odin would more likely to forgive her if he saw her tear. Through the fog gathering in her eyes, she saw the King's silhouette turned to face her again.**

"**My Lord, if you may dismiss me, I'll go haste the cook to prepare for the feast." The pious bow turned into a slight nodding by the head, for she feared the tears would fall down if she bent.**

**With a wave of the hand, Odin granted her dismissal. She quickly squeezed out the water in her eyes and left.**

**An instant before the door shielded her out of the room, she braced herself up to look at the man sitting on the throne. **

**Their eyes met.**

**Those fathomless sapphire eyes shined in an almost exultant way so inappropriate to the old, solemn man and the sad words he whispered moments ago that made her froze.**

**For a second, she couldn't remember how to breathe.**

**Minutes later, she wandered to the kitchen with her mind occupied by those eyes she saw. The more she recalled Odin's strange look, the more anxious she got.**

**Suddenly, she made an abrupt stop, her heels made a terrible sound as they scratched the marble floor.**

**She remembered those eyes. Or should she say, she **_**knew**_** those eyes?**

_**Oh, dear Borr!**_** She whimpered out the name that was hated by half of her lineage but was always a symbol of peace and safety in her heart.**

**She needed space, needed to think, needed to find an explanation for all of this, an explanation reasonable enough.**

**Why did Odin remind her of his adopted half-Frost-Giant, half-human son?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Poisonous Prisoner**

**Chapter Two**

"**So, Gn****á****?" Fandral called, his cheerful, creamy voice just inches away from her ears, waiting for an answer to a question she didn't hear.**

**She looked back at the handsome warrior, staring at him blankly. "I beg you pardon, Fandral?"**

"**It's just your hair is very rare for an Elf, pitchy. In fact, I've never seen an Elf with black hair…" Amazement and surprise painted his face. It was not common that a female would simply ignore his presence . Not with his handsome features and heroic adventure with Thor.**

"**Oh, it's… uh…" She avoided the warrior's curious stare, pretending she was suddenly interested in the wine in front of her.**

"**Forgive me if I offended you. But dark hair suits you well, making you different from all the blonde relatives." Fandral flashed his classic charming smile.**

"**Thank you, Fandral."**

**The arid conversation was disturbed by a deep voice before she could find a way to end it. **

"**Fandral, Volstagg wants you on his table." Heimdall watched the famous playboy dance away gracefully, saving ****Gná**** from his harassment. Then he sat across to her.**

"**I see that child bothering you." After a moment of silent, he began with a sneering nod towards the scene of Fandral flirting with two maids.**

"**It is very insightful of you to see such a tiny thing when the universe is represented ahead." **

**Help and pity was certainly not the thing she needed.**

"**And it's an ill manner that you talk to an elder like this."**

"**If you are seeking for gratefulness, why not help Fandral win my affection?" With a huff, she crushed her glass onto the table, spilling the wine.**

"**Because I know where your affection lies. I saw it."**

"**What you saw was not affection, Heimdall, you may think you understand everything, but not this, not how I **_**feel**_**." Under the table, she fisted her hands so hard that her body started to tremble.**

"**Maybe you are right. How was the King?" Lacking patience to continue the argument, he simply waved this subject away.**

"**He seemed better, more cheerful even, which I suppose you already **_**saw**_**." She said, unable to hide the irony.**

"**And this feast?" Heimdall ignored the sarcasm.**

"**I followed The King's order." She offered a rather ambiguous answer, hoping she could trick the all-seeing, all-hearing Asgardian into giving her some knowledge she didn't have. But he fell silent. She stared up and saw his brows furrowed.**

"**What is troubling you, Heimdall?" It was rare to see the placid Gate Keeper in such a worrying state. ****Gná**** twisted uneasily in her seat.**

**In the exact instant Heimdall opened his mouth to speak, Volstagg called for attention across the bar. She watched the old man's lips closed, then parted, then closed again and knew he was not going to tell her his concern.**

"**Everyone, I would like to make a toast to our great victory and to Thor, who's away in Midgard rebuilding the debris with his mortal; without him, Asgard would, I'm afraid, be ruled by Malekith and his filthy Dark Elves by now."**

**Reluctant-yet-instinctively, she shuddered when the sounds of "Malekith" and "Dark Elves" echoed in the room, but having quickly composed herself, ****Gná**** raised her already empty glass with others and murmured the toast.**

**Not far away, two soldiers were talking loudly:**

"**I wonder what happened in Svartalfheim." One said.**

"**Oh, I bet it's just the old, typical story: Thor bit the mind out of Malekith and saved the Nine Realms. That's how he usually win in battles, no strategy needed." Hypothesized another absently.**

"**But what about Loki?"**

**When the soldier said the word, ****Gná**** sensed Heimdall flickered his eyes to her. So she pretended to be intrigued by the delicious pudding.**

"**Haven't you heard that Loki's dead? Where have you been these days? Away in Vanaheim, selecting herbs?" Jested the other.**

"**Of course I know he's dead, but how? There was no announcement from Odin or Thor. Did he die on the way escaping out of Asgard or in Svartalfheim? Did he betray Thor or not? And where is the body?"**

**These questions soon gained huge attention. Nearly everybody grew quiet and stared at one another curiously. She sighed as pretending not to care is out of the option and held up her head unwillingly. Without surprise, Heimdall was scrutinizing her, those golden eyes hard and solid.**

"**Well, my mate, I don't care how or where Loki died or where they put the body. Loki's gone, for good. That's what My King told me, so that's what it is." The steadfast one was clearly pleased by the influence they had made, and so he continued dramatically.**

"**In fact, I'm disappointed at how easy death was to him. He caused troubles all his life and brought huge loss to Asgard. He was the traitor who let those Frost Giants in; he was the thief stole the Tessaract and thus, made the Midgardian blamed us for the chaos Loki caused them. He didn't deserve to die so peacefully!" As if fearing words might not be enough, the speechmaker jumped onto the table to perform some dramatic waves with his arms.**

**Approvals emerged from the crowd and exclaims followed. Seconds later, people were applauding loudly.**

**Gná listened to the waves of cheer. It was hard not to be moved by the fierce emotion of the crowd, and yet, she felt nothing.**

**Staring at the fevered crowd, she found the scene hard to watch, but she didn't dare to move her gaze, for she knew the Gate Keeper was watching her.**

**Finally, Heimdall straightened to leave. But before that, he bent down and whispered in her ears:**

"**Don't be too harsh on yourself, child. It's perfectly natural to grieve when you lose someone."**

**His voice was so quiet that it made her question whether she was dreaming it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Poisonous Prisoner**

**Chapter Three**

_**She must be dreaming it. There was no way she was in Starvalfheim. But the silhouettes of the hills were unmistakable, though the color of the grass on the ground had faded into a lifeless gray.**_

_**Looking around, she finally understood. This was the Starvalfheim after The War, or the way she imagined it to be.**_

_**Gná**__** collected a handful of dirt in her palms and smelt it. No fragrance of the flower or the humid, fresh scent of the rain. Only the acrid smell of burnt ash and death. **_

_**Before she had time to recall the short, happy time of her life, a puff of wind brought another odor to her. The smell of blood was so strong that it dizzied her. She looked around anxiously, to make sure it wasn't a trap, and begun to follow the metallic scent. Her body felt heavy and numb as she climbed up the nearby mound all the while gasping for fresh air to clear the nausea away.**_

_**What she saw only made it worse.**_

_**There he was, lying on the ground.**_

_**It could be anyone with this distance. But she knew it was HIM.**_

_**Half-crawling, half-rolling down the hill, she went to reach him. As she closed up the distance, she could make out his dark green robe and his pitchy black hair. A desperate cry escaped out of her throat.**_

"_**Loki!" She screamed, kneeling by his side. His chest was still heaving, but the movement was so feeble that it wakened the wildest fear inside her soul. **_

_**A slight rise appeared on his eyebrows, and then he opened his eyes with great labor, those green eyes colder than ever.**_

"_**Am I dying?" He whispered.**_

"_**No, you're not dying." His almost-translucent face made her comforting lie seem ridiculously funny. She searched around desperately. If there were something, anything, she would be able to save him. But all she saw was the deep red blood sinking in the gray dirt, turning into an ugly purple.**_

"_**You can't deceive me." A weak smile spreading through his pale lips.**_

"_**Stop talking and save your breath, Loki. I'll find a way." She continued to search, blinking her eyes furiously to keep the tears from blocking her view.**_

"_**Don't bother, Gn**__**á.**__** I can't be saved." He giggled, or tried to giggle, but the laughter sounded more like a painful cough.**_

"_**For Freyr's sake, Loki!" She was on the edge of collapsing. Never once in her life had she experienced desperation as fierce as this. Death was mocking her from not too far away and she hoped, at that instant, it was her life Hel had chosen.**_

"_**Oh, you really are an Elf, after all. Don't have the mercy to let people die peacefully." Besides the effort it took him to pronounce these words, Loki looked humorous as ever. The crafty light radiated from those turquoise pupils softened in a way only she was familiar with.**_

"_**Don't weep, Elf. Tears doesn't suit you anymore better than your freaky black hair." He went on. The comfort he offered in his own mocking way only made her weep harder.**_

"_**Tell me what you want." She quietly asked for his death wish.**_

_**He didn't answer at first. While he considered, his eyes seemed centuries away.**_

"_**I want you to remember me." Finally he decided. "I want you to mourn for me and mourn for me forever."**_

_**Always so selfish, even with his death wish. But she nodded, even though she would regret it, even though she might break the promise later.**_

"_**This is farewell, then." Arduously, he lifted his blood-covered hand to cup her face, leaving bright, red marks on her cheek. As if satisfied with the tattoo he printed, he flashed his smug smile one more time, and stopped breathing.**_

"_**Farewell." She choked out the word and pressed a kiss on his frozen lips.**_

_**Farewell…**_

**When she woke up, she found her night robe soaked with her own sweat. The merry sound of the feast was faint with the windows closed, but she could still hear Fandral laughing wildly downstairs.**

**The dream was so vivid that it felt like a memory. The sight of him, the smell of him, the **_**touch**_** of him… They were all heartbreakingly real. Especially those eyes…**

**And what he said to her.**

_**I want you to remember me. I want you to mourn for me and mourn for me forever.**_

**That was exactly what Loki would say if he had a chance. Selfish and deadly dangerous, arrogant yet incredibly possessive. She hadn't realized how fully she understood him, until then.**

**But how should she mourn for Loki? How should she mourn for a man whom she didn't know where to place in her heart? Even when he was dying, even in her dream, she didn't murmur out the word "love". How would she react in reality, then?**

**Fulla's euphonic, cheerful soprano in the dining hall floated into her ears, bringing her back to old times. In those times, Frigg will ask them to sing for her, and together, they would spent the whole afternoon enjoying the leisure, lazy atmosphere in Asgard.**

**Inevitably, her heart ached when she thought of Frigg. And the memory after The Queen's funeral followed:**

**She had been locking herself inside for days, so when she stepped out her dark room, the bright sunshine blinded her. She didn't know if she was imagining it: every soldier she walked past by seemed to be staring disdainfully at her, blaming her for not protecting their Queen.**

**She hated herself, too.**

**On her way to the dungeon, she tried to persuade herself out of doing this, knowing it would not be pleasant, but it appeared, this was the best solution she could think of. Someone had to tell Loki his mother died.**

**In the last cell on the left, Loki sat decadently on the floor. His shiny hair lost its gloss; his fancy, elegant robe now was crumpled and torn apart. He looked a decade older than the last time she saw him.**

"**You haven't come for days." He nodded slightly as a greeting, his expression unreadable.**

**News traveled faster than Bifrost, even in the dungeon. ****And Loki ****looked like he was well-filled-in on what happened.**

"**Loki, Frigg was gone." She whispered.**

**There was a pause before he spoke; long enough for the uneasiness inside to gnaw its way out to her surface.**

"**How?" He asked quietly, no emotion leaking through his velvet, placid voice.**

"**Malekith came for the mortal. She died protecting Aether."**

"**What about the mortal?" He slowly got up and came closer.**

"**She's fine, and so is the Aether." She didn't know why, but she kept her gaze moving with his bare foot, afraid he would step on the broken glass pieces on the floor.**

"**I assume you're here to inform me of the date of the funeral. When is it and how will I attend it?" He shortly recovered from his inner emotional struggle.**

**This took her aback and immediately made her guilty. She, Frigg's maid, didn't go to the funeral just because it was too much for her to bear.**

"**The burial ceremony was two days ago." She saw Loki close his eyes and dropped her gaze, not daring to watch his reaction anymore.**

"**Ah, of course. How foolish am I to think you're here to require my respect and condolences! Of course I can't attend the funeral, I'm not even an Asgardian by heritance… Tell me, Elf, why did you come? I bet Odin didn't even bother to inform me of my mother's death." When he spoke again, his voice regained the cruelty that she hadn't heard for a long time. The fierce, sneering laugh sent a chill down her spine.**

"**Loki, I am here because I—Odin—we all think it's best to let me tell you this."**

"**And why is that? Because you and I had shared some dark secrets together in this tragic little dungeon that so frequently evokes compassion between one and another?" He paced furiously around the cell, leaving bloody footprints everywhere.**

"**WHO do you think you are to accept this glorious mission, and WHY bother to inform me of a stranger's death? WHY the hell would I care?" Loki snarled, clinching on the invisible wall between them, punching it violently.**

**She wanted to soothe him, but found herself unable to organize coherent words out of her mouth, so she just listened.**

"**Oh, now she falls silent! Look at her, the mongrel banished by her parents, the beggar Odin kindly let in, the descendant of murder! Tell me, how does it feel to let your people in and slaughter others, kill their Queen?" With every word he screamed, he hit the wall with a furious punch, not realizing his words were not directed only to her anymore.**

**She knew when Loki talked to other, he usually hurt them, but those words would probably cause deeper wounds to him.**

**After the words sunk into his mind and realized they could be equally hurting to him, Loki stopped. The only audible sound was he panting heavily after the emotional outbreak.**

"**Loki—**

"**Save it, Elf, whatever you're planning." He gestured her to shut up, his hands bleeding heavily.**

"**Look, they're bleeding. Remarkable design in the wall, isn't it? Odin's really good at locking people up. I'll give him this." He held up his hands and scrutinized them, as if appreciating an artistic painting. Then gracefully, he licked one of his fingers clean, wincing slightly at the pain.**

"**But at least I'm alive. Alive, and well." He murmured.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Poisonous Prisoner**

**Chapter Four**

**Back from the memory, s****he ****couldn't sleep anymore. She was deep in though until a messenger came with the first beam of the sunshine, bringing Odin's order. It finally came.**

**When ****Gná**** arrived at the meadow behind the palace, Eir was already there healing the injured.**

"**Finally, you came!" Exclaimed Eir, both her hands busy with binding up a severe wound.**

"**Sorry I'm late. It doesn't look good." She carelessly pulled her hair up and stated, eyeing the wound with great concern. Heavy work was exactly what she needed to keep her mind occupied.**

"**It **_**isn't**_** good." Eir sighed, but her good nature soon guided her out of glooming. "But it seems like **_**your**_** soldiers are worse."**

**Gná**** followed Eir's gesture. On the edge of the field where the forest begun lain dozens of soldiers.**

"**They're the ones most severely injured. There's no other way. I'm sorry,**** Gná****." Eir murmured, looking apologetically at the Elf.**

"**Then I'd better begin."**

**Without another word, she went to the dying soldiers with two long strides. She skillfully examined the wounds and labled the patients into groups, starting with the most severely hurt ones. Forest was always a good supply of life source. Thousands of trees that lived for centuries contained huge amount of energy, enough to heal the whole universe. So, she shouldn't be sorry to take a small part of the life from them.**

**But like with every other rule she should follow, she found herself doing the opposite thing. She **_**was**_** sorry. Sorry because she wasn't Eir, who could use medical skills to cure the sickness; she was a robber who take away lives unpermitted. So sorry that as the magical feeling of the plants' refreshing energy flew past her body and went into the soldier's, she felt sinful instead of blessed like many other Elf.**

**So maybe she was cursed to be woeful.**

**Hoping to minimize the damage she caused to the plants, she stopped as soon as possible.**

**However, the impact was evident and swift. Within a quarter, the wound was completely healed and the patients regained their strength.**

**Soon, people were sent back home to take good rest and she was alone. Without any work to distract her, she immediately noticed the influence she had to the trees. Some of them withered; the green leaves moments ago turned yellow and scattered on the ground. It was amazing yet sad to see how strong the impact they had on one another: you destroy one of them, and the balance in the whole forest will be altered.**

**Gently, she held up one hand to feel the rough texture of the bark. She could understand the soft murmur of this creature, could hear the chant of the leaves patting with the wind, and feel the breathing in stomata.**

_**Sorry.**_** She apologized again. **_**And thank you, my dear friends. For the sacrifice you made.**_

**When she was about to recite sacred but long-forgotten praise to these noble lives, a voice came from behind.**

"**What are you doing?" The sudden appear of a man nearly made her jump. She turned and saw Fandral standing casually behind her, a radiant smile shining on his handsome features.**

"**Fandral! I didn't hear you coming." She gasped, blushing slightly as she realized she wasn't alone during the secret contact with the trees.**

"**Maybe it's because you were so lost caressing a tree." He leaned on one nearby and examined her up and down. His eyes held an unreadable look that seemed out of place and it began to make her feel uncomfortable.**

"**What business do you have here, Fandral?" She changed the subject, to end this awkward meeting.**

"**Ah, I have this wound on my arm…" As if prepared for the change with the subject, he raised his right arm and showed the cut to her. It wasn't deep, but deep enough to cause a considerable amount of blood loss.**

"**I'm not good at this, Fandral. You should have Eir take care of it." Frowning, she stated. "Why didn't you come earlier?"**

"**Wasn't able to. Got some errand to do for The King." Again, he reset the direction of the conversation with a graceful wave of his good arm. "Just clean it, wrap it up. I don't care." **

**He sounded demanding and authoritative. She knew she had no choice.**

"**Well, you shouldn't have drunk so much last night if you're wounded." She scolded while trying not to touch him, the movement on her hands flexible and fast.**

"**There." Not wanting to have contact with him anymore than necessary, she let go of his arm the second she finished binding up the cut.**

"**Hmm, good job, Elf." He stared at the newly cured arm as if appreciating an artwork. Maybe he hadn't recovered from the affect of the wine, there was a condescending attitude leaking through every word he spoke.**

"**So what did you say to the trees?" As if testing her patience, he questioned.**

**Though she disliked his frivolous behavior, ****Gná ****had to admit he was acute to know she was communicating with the forest.**

"**Nothing."**

**Obviously not buying it, he ignored her dishonesty and begun to trace his palm along with the grooves on the tree. She watched him, surprised by how tender his touch was.**

"**Are they in pain?" He whispered and the concern in his voice reached the softest spot in her heart.**

"**It's hard to tell." She whispered back, unable to draw her gaze away from him. "They won't tell me how they truly feel, afraid of disturbing the peace in **_**my**_** heart." She smiled humorlessly at the irony in these words.**

"**Noble creatures, aren't they?" He marveled.**

"**Indeed."**

"**Are you?" He raised his voice to indicate a question directed to her.**

"**What?" She blinked, confused.**

"**Are you disturbing the peace in your own heart?" His eyes penetrated into hers, reaching to the core. It was almost funny at how disproportionate those deep eyes were to his shallow personality.**

"**I suppose so." After some serious brooding, she decided.**

"**Tell me about it, please?" The pleading sounded more like a command.**

"**I sometimes regard myself as a thief." Breathing deeply to stable her voice, she managed out. "Because nobody has the right to move life from a creature to another, no matter how right the reason sounds."**

"**Not a pleasant thought. Not at all…" He commented. Before he had time to say more, he tilted his head abruptly towards the Gladsheim. She followed his gaze and saw Eir appear at the gate of the palace and heading towards them.**

"**Well, it looks like Eir has something important to tell you. I'd better leave you alone." He clearly didn't want to be seen. Without a proper ending of their conversation, he just bowed and soon disappeared behind the flourish shrubbery.**

"**Gná****!" Eir called while trotting closer, worry sharpened her beautiful face. "Where have you been?"**

"**I'm here all the time. The air is fresh, so I let myself enjoyed it a little bit." She lied.**

"**Well, Heimdall sent me since I'm the last one who talked to you. He said he couldn't see you."**

"**But how? I was here and haven't moved an inch." She answered absently, still thinking about that compassionate, different Fandral.**

"**Who knows, Heimdall always doubts himself after the first break-through of the Giants. Poor old thing. He's getting suspicious about everyone." Eir shook her beautiful head sympathetically, her bright, red hair reflecting the warm sunshine.**

"**Enjoy the air, darling. I'll go and soothe old Heimdall." The Asgardian smiled and turned to leave.**

"**Eir. Fandral got a wound on his right arm. Don't forget to check it if you have the chance." Hesitating for a moment, she called.**

"**Oh, does he? I saw him this morning. He seemed fine." Curious passed Eir's eyebrows, but then she decided she was probably too busy dealing with the soldiers to notice it. **

"**Don't worry, darling. I'll look after him." The skillful doctor waved and trotted elegantly away.**

**Placing her hand on the bark where Fandral touched moments ago, she focused herself to hear the whisper of the leaves.**

**Then she smiled for the first time since Frigg died.**

"**Oh, yes. He is nice." She repeated, agreeing silently in her heart.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Poisonous Prisoner**

**Chapter Five**

**She had a dream again.**

_**She knew it wasn't real because there was no way she was kissing Fandral and be willing to do it. But her sub-consciousness didn't leave her any choice. As the blurry image of Fandral ensured her that it wasn't real, she finally returned the warrior's testing kiss.**_

_**Couldn't control herself, she found her hands moving desperately around his neck, trying to pull him closer. The smell of him was so familiar that she felt like she had breathed in his scent many times before. But before she had time to figure out why, he moaned out her name in a low, throaty voice, making her forget everything.**_

"_**Gná,**__** you're divine!" He murmured, the appreciation in his tone made her shudder.**_

"_**You're beautiful." She whispered back and closed her eyes when he pressed a light kiss on her lips again, part of her mind questioning the sincerity in her admiration.**_

"_**Oh, REALLY?" A voice didn't belong either to her or Fandral asked. And the teeth that nibbled her bottom lip seconds ago bit her hard, hard enough to make her bleed.**_

_**With a sharp gasp, she opened her eyes in agony.**_

_**The man she was hugging tightly didn't have the shiny blonde hair or the charming, warm smile of Fandral. His green eyes were now glaring at her furiously, darker than ever. If looks could kill, she would be dead.**_

"_**This is how you mourn me?" With a cruel raise of his eyebrows, Loki asked icily.**_

"_**Loki?" She breathed, unable to believe it. With his face vivid and extremely real, she wasn't sure it was a dream anymore.**_

"_**Yes. Are you disappointed? Would you rather like me to be someone else?" He snapped, the familiar, dangerous light that appeared every time when he was planning something evil shining in his eyes. Then in a blink of an eye, Fandral reappeared, again with the dreamy yellow light around his body. **_

"_**Would you prefer Fandral?" Loki's unmistakable deep voice burst out through Fandral's lips.**_

"_**Loki, stop it!" She shook her head pleadingly, refusing to look into his hurtful eyes.**_

"_**Or Thor? Or Hogen?" He continued to transform.**_

"_**Loki, please…" Helplessly, she shut her eyes.**_

"_**Just give me a name! I'll play him for you, Elf!" He determinedly ignored her plea. With every word he yelled out, Loki took a step forward and when he finished, she was locked up between the cool marble wall and him.**_

_**Like every time she faced the violent outbreak of his fury, **__**Gná**__** remained silent, dreaming he would calm down soon after not receiving a respond. And just like any other outbreak of his, the silence only made him angrier.**_

"_**Answer me, Elf!" His hands gripped tightly on her shoulders, fingertips sinking in her delicate collarbone. "Which sordid Asgardian did you have your slutty eyes on?!"**_

"_**Loki, just let go of me! You're hurting me." She gazed up with tearful eyes, trying very hard not to weep before him.**_

_**Seeing the tears in her eyes, he realized his reaction was too much. Slowly letting go of her shoulders, Loki took several deep breaths to suppress the overwhelming outrage burning in his heart.**_

"_**Fine, just answer me this, Elf: were you not serious when you promised to mourn for me?" He asked with his jaw clenching tight.**_

"_**I was, Loki, I AM!"**_

"_**Then why dream about others?" He gave her a heartrending look, his bright turquoise eyes burning with pain.**_

"_**I… I don't know." This question, she wasn't able to answer.**_

"_**You said you would remember me. You PROMISED." He withdrew himself and began to pace around the room fretfully. "What does promise mean to you Light Elves? I thought you are supposed to be the noble, honest creatures who never deceive. Or am I wrong, in fact you're just as filthy and vile as RATS?"**_

_**The poisonous jeer was no better.**_

"_**Stop insulting my race, Loki." Her protest was barely a whisper.**_

"_**Only half of your race, darling." He reminded menacingly. "Ahh, how can I forget about that? That's where you get these tricks from, your father. He was a loyal slave of Malekith, wasn't he?"**_

"_**Enough! Why do you have to bring that up? You always drag others with you into that ocean of misery and hurt, even after you died!" She shrieked back. "Why can't you care for someone in the right, harmless, HEALTHY way? Why after all this time, you still behave like when we first met, condescending and distant, always blaming others and never realizing your own faults?"**_

_**The rage on Loki's face froze, soon replaced by surprise and a soft amazement.**_

"_**You remember. The first time we met." He gasped, as if punched by an invisible fist.**_

"_**I do. And I'm not lying." She moved slowly closer to reach him. Tentatively, her hands went to cup his face, to soothe those lines between his brows.**_

"_**Prove it." He ordered authoritatively and placed his right hand on her chest.**_

**It was like a dream within a dream, only she was re-experiencing the memory stored in her mind.**

**It was the memory of her first visit in the dungeon.**

**Frigg couldn't come to supply Loki with books and clothes anymore since Odin had asked her to help take care of the mortal Jane Foster. Fulla didn't dare to speak to the evil brother of Thor. So not surprisingly, the task fell on her shoulders, and she wasn't willing at all.**

**She was not afraid of Loki. She was afraid of her own mind. The dungeon contained a lot of memory she wouldn't by any circumstances recall as long as she could breathe.**

**But the dark, gruesome atmosphere filled the air, the wet, muddy ground, the painful moans and the crazy shrieks of the prisoners soon evoked the long-suppressed dread.**

**After taking forty-three full long strides, she reached the cell in the end of the prison. Even the number of the steps she took was the same.**

**Loki was taken special care of, even in the cell, even after all the damage he caused for Asgard and Midgard. He enjoyed the large cell all by himself, sitting on the comfortable-looking chair, playing chess with himself.**

"**Odin said no one could visit me, ever." Didn't bother looking up, he said, his voice clear and energetic, as if the days he spent in here was a leisure holiday.**

"**The Queen sent me. She had other business on hand." Though taken aback by his leisureliness, she was careful not to leak any information to the criminal.**

"**By business, I assume you meant babysitting that toy of Thor." He snorted loudly, smiling meaningfully at some private joke going on in his mind.**

"**So tell me, Maid. What business do you have here?" He mimicked her tone and use of word, chuckling.**

"**To bring you some books and clothes." She bent down and put the bag she carried on the ground.**

"**And how am I going to get it?" For the first time, he looked up from the chessboard, irony painted his tone, making those green, cat-like eyes shine in a cruel way that made the hair on her neck stand up.**

**She closed her eyes and performed the trick she learnt from Frigg. Before visiting Loki, she practiced this magic many times in order not to humiliate herself in front of the greatest magician next to The Queen. Nervously opening her eyes, she happily saw the bag was already inside the invisible wall.**

"**Impressive." Loki amused under his breath, his gaze moving between the bag and her repeatedly. "I thought I'm the only who got Mother's tricks." She didn't know if she was imagining it, but there was a certain degree of sadness when he spoke.**

"**If you don't have anything for me to pass to The Queen, I should be leaving." She stared at her shoes the whole time she waited for his approve, her heart beating uncommonly fast.**

"**I have nothing to say. You may go as you wish. I'm the one who's locked up in a **_**cage**_**, after all." He flashed his cruel, ironic smile once again and watched the maid walk away.**

**When she was about to step onto the last stairs and out of the dungeon, Loki called:**

"**You're the Elf, aren't you? The one with strange dark hair."**

**From the distance, she could see the arrogant, graceful smirk climb on his thin lips. She said nothing.**

"**What's your name, Elf? And may I see you again? The dungeon is no fun without some beautiful company around." He asked with a dramatic bow, but nothing about him was polite. On the contrary, his civil gesture only made her seemed lower in every aspect.**

**Still silently, she left the prison and the man with the cantankerous smirk, secretly wounded by old memories…**

**The next thing she knew, she was staring at the ceiling in her room, woken from the suffocating dream.**

**Sitting up, she felt something rolling down her jaw. She quickly wiped it away with her hand. A trace of blood appeared on her fingers. Then she realized her bottom lip was bleeding. On the exact spot Loki had bit her during their kiss.**

**She must have bit herself.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Poisonous Prisoner**

**Chapter Six**

"**Gná****, you don't look very well." Fulla asked, eyeing the brooding Elf's untouched lunch suspiciously.**

"**Err… Didn't sleep well last night." She sighed.**

"**Yes, I can see that from your red eyes and the dark circles underneath. What happened?" The always high-spirited woman put an arm around ****Gná's ****shoulder. Fulla hated everything with a negative energy.**

"**I guess it's because I don't have anything to do during the day. Odin hasn't sent me an errand of any kind." She always thought it best to let part of the truth out to earn some peace in her mind, because lying to a friend is contemptible.**

"**Oh, poor ****Gná****, I **_**knew**_** it's of work!" Fulla's perfectly curved lips pursed into a naughty pout, drawing everyone's attention within ten miles.**

"**You can always find yourself something to do! Like singing, dancing, flirting with men!" The Asgardian gave the Elf a meaningful look and winked.**

"**No, Fulla, I don't think now it's a good time to occupy myself with anything… Romantic. And keep your voice down!" She groaned frustratingly, her face pink as she felt the constant gazes focused on her.**

"**Gná****, you can't be sad forever. I know that you feel responsible for Firgg's death, but keeping looking backward is certainly not what she wants us to do." Fulla persuaded.**

"**I know, I know, Fulla." Even knowing the persuasion was destined to lose its power, she was still touched by the concern her friend felt for her.**

**Yes, looking backward was not what Frigg would want. But it was what Loki wanted. And between these two, she didn't know whom to chose.**

"**Let me tell you what'll make you better: a husband, a house of your own to attend to and babies!" Fulla's sweet giggle echoed in the room.**

"**I don't think so…"**

"**But why? You don't have anyone on mind, do you, darling?" **

**Not knowing what to say, she just fell silent.**

"**Oh, no, daring! I know that look on your face. Who **_**is**_** he? Why didn't you tell me about him before?" Again, she unconsciously raised her voice.**

**To soothe Fulla's questioning eyebrows, she had no choice but to confess.**

"**There's no need. He's gone." She didn't intend to let sadness paint her tone, but the tricky emotion stroke faster than she could control herself. Realizing she had told too much, the Elf got up suddenly to leave, not caring whether it was rude or not.**

"**Gná****! I'm sorry, but what happened?" Fulla's soprano yelled from behind. But she left.**

_**Yes, what happened?**_

**Lying on her bed that night, she repeated Fulla's question silently and tried to find an answer. But all she could find was memory. To her surprise, she could still recall every conversation, every eye contact in detail. So she let herself dive in the ocean of the past…**

**SEVERAL MONTHS AGO**

**Before Frigg ordered her, she had prayed a thousand times in her heart, wishing the upcoming mission was something that didn't include Loki or the dungeon.**

**And now, as she walked expressionlessly towards the prison, she was desperate.**

**This time Loki stood elegantly by the chair, waiting for her arrival.**

"**Mother told me you would come again. Good… Whatever-the-time-it-is." He bowed his head, lifted his right hand in the air, brought a fistful of air to his lips and kissed it. It took her a while to realize he was greeting her by kissing her imaginative hand. This gesture made her smile.**

"**You seem to be in a good mood, today. Excellent." He smiled warmly back.**

"**Here're the things you required." As in their first meeting, she ignored any comment he made and sent the bag through the wall.**

"**Ah, thank you." He bent down to pick it up. His joints made a loud cracking sound when he bent.**

"**Sorry, I've been standing for a long time." He apologized.**

**She remained silent but secretly wondered why.**

"**Actually, I stood waiting for you since I woke up." As if detecting what was on her mind, he added.**

**Chewing on her bottom lip, she was fighting the urge to ask why.**

"**Next time you perform this little magic, I suggest you relax a little. It will make things easier." And he was dropping comments on her tricks.**

"**Don't you want to know what's inside the bag?" He went on soothingly, this time with his sharp gaze piercing into hers. She knew she had to answer this.**

"**No, I didn't." If she couldn't avoid speaking, she could keep it short.**

"**Why? **_**I**_** would have opened it, to see what a prisoner would need. It's an interesting question, is it not?" The dungeon wasn't quiet, other prisoners had gone into chaos when she showed up, but somehow, Loki made himself heard just fine with his quiet, calm voice.**

"**No, it isn't. Because what's inside that pocket is not hard to guess. Freedom. That the thing all prisoners want."**

**She just wanted to end the talk. Unfortunately, she didn't know how special her answer was at that time. Loki did, and he scrutinized her repeatedly up and down, taking in everything about her.**

"**Funny theory." Finally, he mused and turned his attention back to the leather bag. "Whatever's inside, I can show you. I think you have a right to know. This errand is, I must admit, not pleasant at all and too wild for a lady like you."**

"**I don't mind wild and unpleasant things. I'm getting used to foolishness." She satirized.**

**Then, cool as usual to her irony and not giving her chance to protest or refuse, he opened the bag.**

**There was nothing.**

**She couldn't resist her curiosity anymore. Looking up to search for answer on Loki's face, she saw his satisfied smirk. They stared at each other for a moment, and then he burst into laughter.**

"**You must excuse me for my rudeness…" He choked out between roars of laughter, blinking hardly to squeeze the tears out of his eyes.**

**His wild chuckling continued for minutes. Surprisingly, she was not offended, only bewildered, so she waited until he stopped.**

"**You must be truly angry. Sorry, but your face was the true interpretation of bewilderment and it's not something I've seen in a long time." He regained his breath, with a faint smile hanging on the corner of his lips. Those thin lips were not as cruel as she remembered.**

"**Maybe you could kindly explain it to return the tolerance I offered." Her face remained composed and cool, but she was beginning to feel entertained by the intricate actions of the man.**

"**Of course I will. But you have to understand what you ask and what you get are, for most of the time, not the same, and to get what you **_**truly**_** want, you have to think of some skillful ways of asking, sometimes, even ways of giving up what you already have. It may be hard to explain it to Thor, but to you, not at all. You see, that's all I asked Mother for: an empty bag. I don't need the bag, but I need the **_**Elf **_**who brought it. And I'm willing to take the risk of being caught by Odin and send my request to Mother" As he explained, his eyes shined with a mixture of excitement and smugness that easily influenced her, making her pulse speed up as if she experienced his little adventure with him.**

"**How do you know it will be an **_**Elf**_** and not Fulla or others?" Without thinking it through, she mimicked his tone and asked, receiving a chuckle from the now-radiating Loki.**

**But instead of continuously being kind and easy-going, he suddenly withdrew himself away from the wall, stepping back into his cell.**

"**Next time." He promised, his voice crafty and challenging.**

"**Wha—but you…" She protested eagerly, coming closer to reach him.**

"**Stay where you are, Elf, or the wall will burn you." He warned, disappearing into the dark corner of his room.**

"**The next time you visit. I'll tell you why." Loki faked an exaggerated yawn to haste her leaving and fell silent ever since.**

**She stood there, glaring at the darkness for a minute, knowing he would be watching, and turned furiously to leave. On the way out, she cracked her heels as hard as she could and smiled almost triumphantly as the noise echoed in the dungeon...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Poisonous Prisoner**

**Chapter Seven**

**She deliberately delayed her next visit, hid the items Frigg prepared for her second son under her bed and decided to make Loki suffer a week without new clothes and books.**

**At first, she thought he would become infuriated and report it to his mother. But he didn't. The whole week, he was quiet and spared The Queen from being aware of her little vengeance. So on the eighth day, she finally headed to the dungeon.**

**It was almost remarkable to see Loki still in such a tidy appearance. Actually, he looked ready to attend his coronation any minute.**

"**Nice to see you." His tone was light as he caught a glimpse of the surprise in the Elf's eyes. Apparently smug about the bewilderment he caused, Loki let out a throaty chuckle.**

"**From where I stand, I can't help but to feel my visits are completely unnecessary. You seemed perfectly fine without all these essentials." She said sourly, dropping the bag on the ground with a loud **_**thump**_** to indicate her frustration for not making him suffer.**

"**Not everyone can afford to be grungy, especially when I'm expecting a pretty visitor." He combed his shiny black hair flauntingly. "Now, let me see what new stuffs Mother brought me, please?"**

**She glared at him one more time and sent the bag in. Having received the pocket, Loki ignored her existence completely and began to check the items. She couldn't help but peak under her eyelashes.**

**There was nothing special: clothes, all in dark green color, obviously a personal preference of his; several pens and a huge notebook; a clock; and lastly, dozens of books.**

"**Now, I can finally know what time is it. Good afternoon!" Loki held up the clock and looked at it with an admirable and excited look that reminded her of a kid receiving his birthday presents.**

"**You have a large collection of books for a prisoner." She noticed, studying the piles of reading materials on the corner of the cell. They were of many kinds: mythology, astronomy, astrology, literature, and some of them are from other realms.**

"**They are good companies when you have endless time to kill. Besides, stay here for a week, and you will find your mind sluggish and slow. Books can keep you sharp." He put the new arrivals carelessly on the table and went back to examine the clock again, couldn't seem to let go of it.**

"**But this, is my favorite of the week." He murmured cheerfully and hung it on the wall.**

**His exaggerated yet sincere enthusiasm that was so disproportionate to the ordinary clock made her giggle.**

"**Mind sharing that joke going on in your head?" He raised his gaze and asked, not a bit offended.**

"**How did you know Frigg would send me instead of Fulla?" Instead, she asked.**

"**Haven't forgotten that, still?" He let out a low groan.**

"**I have a good memory." She said, crossing her arms in front of her chest impatiently.**

**Loki scrutinized her eager face for a second. **

"**Be certain you want to hear it. I can't promise the answer is worthy of expectations."**

**Her questioning gaze didn't fade away.**

**Finally, he opened his mouth to explain. "Because Mother sent me an illusion the other day and told me you're the only one of her maids who was willing to step into this cursed place." A sly smile crossed his face.**

**She blinked, twice. That was it. No meticulous deduction, no evil plan, no secret lure. Frigg told him. It was as simple as that.**

**Huge surprise washed through her mind, but strangely, disappointment didn't follow. Instead, she burst into laughter after they stared at each other solemnly.**

"**Pray, tell me what's so humorous about that." Loki's voice was full of amusement when he quietly whispered out the question. The laughing woman interested him like a magnet intrigued a rseshoe.**

"**Is it **_**not**_** funny? Me puzzled by this **_**enigma**_** for **_**days**_**. You intended to intrigue me visit sooner but had it turned out on the exact opposite way and ended up a week without a change of clothes. What's **_**not**_** humorous about that?" Her giggling continued to echo in the dungeon, drawing other prisoners' attention, but this time, she didn't mind at all. She was enjoying it, immensely.**

**Seeing her point, Loki chuckled along. Their laughter sounded like a duet in the somber prison.**

"**I suppose I had it coming." He admitted when he could find his breath again, leaning on the wall as he exhausted himself with laughing. It had been a long time since he laughed and really meant it, and it felt… Alive.**

"**Indeed." She agreed. "And I can see that shredding expectations is your biggest hobby."**

**He tilted his head, considering her remark, and then nodded contently. He obviously liked the idea of being a mysterious person who exceeded every expectation.**

"**Enjoy yourself, then. I'd better be going." She bowed her head and headed to the gate.**

"**Before you leave, pray, tell me what is your name, Elf." Loki called from behind, eyes following her steps.**

"**Gná.****" After hesitating for a second, she answered.**

**Looking back one last time, she left the prison with Loki's fathomless expression imprinted on her retina. On the way back, ****Gná**** had a mild smile on her face, looking happier than she had ever been.**

**That night, as Loki lie on the bed, replaying his conversation with the Elf earlier, he felt a sudden urge to record everything. Unable to fight the desire anymore, he reached for the notebook and began to outline the curve of her lips when she smiled. He was so lost in the memory that when Frigg's illusion appeared in the cell, he was still trying to draw out the vividness in her sparkling blue eyes.**

"**Beautiful painting." Frigg appraised, keeping her voice quiet in order not to startle her son.**

**Loki's fluently moving hand froze, and he quickly stuck the paper under his pillow before his mother could make out whom he was picturing. His face reddened when he looked up to greet Frigg.**

"**Mother. I wasn't aware of your visit." His nervous tone and blushing cheeks brought Frigg back to when both Thor and Loki were little boys and close brothers who shared every secret together.**

"**That's because you were so focused on the art you're doing." The old woman smiled warmly and paced around the room. She was content to see how tidy Loki's cell was. That was probably the only comfort she could find about Loki.**

"**I was just doodling." He lied, and from the look on Frigg's face, he wasn't sure if she bought it or not.**

"**Are you satisfied about the books I sent you?"**

"**Oh, yes, immensely. I like that proud warrior in the book from Earth. Reminded me of Thor, actually." He gave his mother a mocking smile that held some bitterness in it.**

"**Except for the biased comment of your brother, I like your taste in books." Frigg had learnt to neglect Loki's irony when they talk. Slowly, she sat on the bed beside him, careful not to touch him and make her illusion vanish. "Tell me, how are you?"**

"**The same. This room keeps getting smaller." He huffed.**

"**And how is the food? Have you not tasted the meal I ordered specially for you?"**

"**Mother, if Odin find out you are giving me privilege even in the dungeon, he will probably lock you up, too." He chuckled humorlessly to ease away the loneliness in his tone. Gradually, the cheerful mood he stored in his body after the meeting with**** Gná**** was fading.**

"**Tell me what else do you need. I'll bring it to you." Unwilling to start an argument, Frigg wisely dropped the sensitive topic about The King.**

"**Maybe some tools to paint. And instruments, if possible." After some hesitation, he decided.**

"**Artistic." The Queen commented with a bright smile. For days, she had wished Loki would stop blaming his father and brother and be more comfortable, or even happier, if possible, in this cell. Art was usually where Loki sought pleasure from, and picking it up certainly was a good sign.**

"**What induced this change?" She wondered curiously.**

**For one instant, the Elf's smiling face came to Loki's mind. It would be perfect to see that face being pictured out by his hands.**

**Knowing he can't be honest with this question, he just smiled and said nothing.**

"**Well, I **_**do**_** understand that sometimes, clandestine is what artists seek and are proud of. I'd better leave you to your own creative mind. I'll see to it and bring the tools to you as soon as possible. Don't worry, son." With an ensuring look, the old woman rose to leave.**

"**You don't have to deliver them yourself. Send the maid, the Elf****, Gná****." He tried very hard to be casual but failed and cursed himself for it. He remembered he was good at faking things.**

"**You're not giving her a hard time, are you, Loki?" Frigg asked suspiciously, obviously sensing something unusual in her son's behavior.**

"**No. Why?" He secretly panicked, afraid the Elf said something to Frigg.**

"**Because you seem to have a lot of interest in her and because she is still willing to pay you visits after meeting **_**you**_**."**

"**And I thought it was a good thing. Aren't you the one who always told me to behave?" He protested and flashed his innocent smile, knowing his mother would listen to whatever he said for this smile.**

"**True. But be nice, she's not some random maid. I regard her as my daughter." As expected, The Queen's expression softened and she smiled to Loki one more time before vanishing with a bright, golden light.**


	8. Chapter 8

Today is definitely a bad day. First of all, I realized I made a HUGE mistake about the Fandral and Volstagg and it made me want to hit myself with a baseball bat in the head. I beg for your forgiveness... Second, I just found out a university I applied for just put me into the waiting list. And so far, no university I really want to get in send me an offer and the waiting is driving me crazy!

Please know that the one Gná dreamed about and talked to is Fandral, the blond, good-looking warrior instead of his huge, red-hair mate. And please know that I will try my best to avoid foolish mistakes like this and continue to write this novel.

Love you.

* * *

**Poisonous Prisoner**

**Chapter Eight**

**Gná**** was being harassed by Fulla ever since her first visit to Loki. Being an Asgardian who had little to trouble or vex her, Fulla found it hard to imagine what would Odin's evil son be like, and she attacked her brave friend with all kinds of question about Loki, from what he wore to what was his favorite choice of words when they talked.**

**At first,**** Gná**** refused to answer, for she thought little about Loki, considering him just as an ordinary man who craved for power and learnt his lessons. Then, as her visits became more frequent, she found her opinion towards Loki shifted to a more complex and ambiguous direction.**

**First of all, Loki wasn't as evil as she imagined. Sure he could be arrogant and condescending if he intended to, but most of the time, he was humorous, polite, even easy-going.**

**He was lonely, too, although he wouldn't admit it. When she visited, he would deliberately find something to talk in order to make her stay, and after all those casual conversations, there was always a question followed: how was the Asgard without him?**

**Among every living soul, Frigg was the one he asked most frequently. He would keep throwing questions about The Queen to her of all aspects, his composed face pretending not to care but suggested the exactly the opposite. And she would always be willing and felt obliged to select as much as she could for him. Being occupied by these questions, she would stay for hours. Going in the dungeon at noon and coming out with twilight hiding behind the nearby mountains was no longer an eccentric occasion for her.**

**Sometimes, only sometimes, Loki would ask about Thor and Odin. With his lips curved into the ironic smile he carried every time he faked cruelty, he would ask:**

"**Tell me, Elf, what is the Mighty Thor doing these days?"**

**Being as impartial as she could, she would report how Thor expelled the rebellious troublemakers away and reset other realms back to peace. But it was hard not to be infected by the respect and admiration people often felt for the God of Thunder. Every time when she began to unconsciously praise Thor, his imprisoned brother would cut her off mid-sentenced with an impatient and childish groan.**

**He also had an incredible talent in music. Once she was invited to listen to two pieces of serenade he composed days earlier but couldn't decide which one was better. Having no particular preference towards anything artistic, she offered her opinion perfunctorily. The next day, she ran into Loki's illusion in Frigg's room, playing that movement she chose.**

**To her surprise, the interest was mutual. When in incredible good mood, Loki would ask about her. The range of questions varied from her favorite color to what she felt about evrything. Through rounds of skillful interviews, Loki tricked her into letting out things she kept from others.**

"**What is your feeling for Odin?" Once, he asked.**

"**Grateful. Respect." She answered, not realizing she had unconsciously disclosed a secret.**

"**But fear, too." He assumed.**

"**People tend to fear those great creatures who indicate safety and danger at the same time." She artfully avoided the key point.**

"**Especially the people who witnessed the damage he caused." He gave her a meaningful look.**

"**What are you suggesting?" She thought it best to play dumb.**

"**Technically, you're Odin's prisoner after he invaded your realm, slaughter your people and stole your treasure."**

"**Odin wasn't in the Svartalfheim, Borr was. And he did so to protect us from being ruled by Malekith." She corrected.**

"**Oh, but he could just **_**leave**_** afterward. He didn't, did he? He stayed and tricked you Elves to this realm and persuaded you with mendacious lies to make you stay and work for them. Are you aware of how many of Elves were sold to Vanaheim and tortured to death? You're Odin's free labor."**

**She was well aware of that. But she refused to let Loki waver her.**

"**What would **_**you**_** do? Sacrifice your people to save us and go back home without any rewards? If I remember correctly, you tried to take over Earth not too long ago." She fired back, angrier with herself than with him for being slightly convinced.**

"**Of course I will not leave with nothing if I were Borr, but at least I can make sure Elves are being used properly." Loki answered without consideration. She could almost see the picture of him imagining himself as the ruler and dominate the Universe.**

"**Like what? What can Elves possibly bring you?"**

"**Don't sell yourselves short, darling. You're magical creatures who have the ability that makes everyone in this realm jealous. With your miraculous healing method and prodigious way to communicate with plants and animals, you can create much more value than slaves and maids…" He was deep in thought for a second, his eyebrow frowning in a regretful way. "Unfortunately, neither did old Borr nor the blinded Odin realize that. Their loss, I should say." After the brooding, he shrugged and came back to normal.**

**She smiled meaningfully at him and said nothing, dropping this topic.**

**Aside from digressions like this, they got along fine. The more she visited him, the easier it was for her to forget he was a prisoner who had done things extremely harmful to the Nine Realms.**

**But the peace and easiness she felt around him was soon disturbed by a vehement quarrel between them.**

**That day, Loki asked about Odin and Thor again.**

"**Tell me about that old man sitting on the throne and his imprudent son without any intellect left in his brain." He demanded condescendingly, becoming more annoying than ever.**

**It took her a moment to readjust from the sudden change in his tone and the huge difference from a gentle man to a commander who considered himself higher than anyone infuriated her. **

"**If you want to know about your father and brother, just ask." She kept her voice deep and calm, but her hands were already trembling with anger.**

"**They are not my family." Loki's jaw clenched tightly as he corrected her, mirroring her fury.**

"**Stop it, Loki. It won't bring any comfort to you." She sighed. It was impossible to be angry to a needy **_**boy**_** who craved for love from his stern father and a brother who exceeded him in every competition.**

"**Be specific. What do you mean, Elf?" He squeezed the words out from gritted teeth, clearly on the edge of snapping.**

"**Everyone can see that you care about them. Why pretend otherwise? It's perfectly natural to still love them even if they banished you." He just didn't know how lucky he was to still have someone left to care about. And to prevent him from being as miserable as she was, she had to help him understand. For Frigg's sake, at least.**

"**Don't you **_**dare**_** to speak to me like this!" The outbreak of his anger was so abrupt that he startled her with his snarling. The next thing she knew, he was pacing around the room, sending everything within his reach flying towards the wall between them. Several seconds later, the air was filled with a scorching smell as paper and books burnt into ashes as they hit the magical net in the wall.**

"**Don't you **_**dare**_** to judge me, to assess me! I'm not that pellucid! You foolish, ignorant **_**trash**_** who think so highly of yourself, who regard yourself as inviolable just by talking to **_**trees,**_** and **_**birds**_**, and**_** horses**_**. You were **_**worms**_** eating **_**corpses **_**in the first place. Magicians like **_**me**_** gave you life and body and brain!" He continued hysterically.**

**She said nothing, didn't know what to say to this stranger. So, this was what Loki hid inside of his civil, handsome surface. She should have prepared for this.**

"_**You**_** understand **_**me**_**? **_**I**_** know what **_**you're**_** thinking. **_**I**_** know **_**you've**_** been in this very room before. And **_**I**_** know what brought you here!"**

**It was the boundary she drew for herself. It was where she had to stop Loki.**

"**Enough, Loki. Calm down. **_**Please.**_**" She said calmly. Inside, fear was gnawing her restlessly.**

"_**I**_** decide whether it's enough!" Her calmness only made it worse. "Since you want to study me, why don't we hold up a seminar and have deep, retrospective talks about our dark secrets and stinky pasts?" His voice regained its cruelty that reminded her of a predator playing with its prey before finally end its life.**

"**Loki, I **_**beg**_** of you—**

"**No, I don't mind at all. Let's start." He pulled the chair forward with a horrid scratching, sat on it elegantly and leaned forward as a show of eagerness, crossing his fingers on his knees.**

"**I'm **_**sorry**_** for thinking I know you. Will you **_**please **_**just stop it?" Couldn't think of any other way, she began to beg, unaware that at this point, there was nothing she could do to quench Loki's furious flame. He was determined to destroy everything he could.**

"**If you won't begin, then I will. You're not the Elf they think you are, are you? You're an Elf, of course, because you all have those ugly, spiky ears hanging on both sides of your head, but you're **_**not **_**a Light Elf, because I haven't seen one with black hair like your. So, is half of your lineage from Earth? No, that wouldn't explain why you spent time in this jail, because human blood don't last long in here. You're a dark one. That's why you have been here and have that scaring face every time you come here."**

**She knew it was easier not to listen, not to look into those fierce green eyes to see the pleasure sparkling as he revealed the things she tried her whole life to hide. But his eyes seemed to have some brutal magic, holding her gaze, forcing her to witness how he tore her, piece by piece, organ by organ. Her instinct was telling her to turn around immediately and leave, but she couldn't find her legs.**

"**And would you be a darling and tell me what was it you did that made Odin leave you rot in here instead of making you one of those pretty little slaves of the rich? That is also a good idea, isn't it? We all know what will happen once a girl like you is enslaved by those old, fat, randy waste-of-space. It's a much suitable punishment, don't you think? At least, your beauty would not be wasted." His voice was sharp as a knife.**

**Something flowed down her cheeks. She tasted them when she tried in vain to say something poisonous back. It was bitter and salty. The taste of tears.**

"**See? This is what happens when you try to understand me, to control me I thought you knew. I was wrong. You **_**are **_**as stupid as others." Loki let out a mortifying sigh and looked at her compassionately, but his every pore radiated the cheerful joy of vengeance.**

"**I'm glad you noticed that." She fought back the sobs with all her strength. "I'll go, and spare you from tolerating my ignorance any longer." Then she left. The instant she turned her back to the man, she lost control of everything. Thousands of emotions rammed inside her body, threatening to explode.**

"**Shredding people's expectations is what I do, remember? You should be prepared." He added from behind, voice quiet and exhausted. She didn't know if she was imagining it, but there was regret and guilt leaking through his words, too.**

**No matter what his words meant, she didn't have the strength left in her body to figure out. She just waited until she was alone in her room and cried like a child.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**Before she walked down the hallway towards the dungeon, ****Gná**** had no idea she would visit him ever again, would have courage and strength to do so. The truth was, she had been thinking about this for days, and the inner struggle had kept her away from sleeping.**

**It was midnight. Moonlight shined through the columns onto the marble floor, giving everything a dreamy, sliver touch.**

**When it was extremely quiet around her, she would be able to hear all the voices that were neglected in noisy occasions. The trees and flowers in the garden outside, the nightingales perching on the branches, the bees and fireflies dancing in the air all watched her shorten the distance to the prison. And she knew, without even bothering listening closely, that they were persuading her to change her mind.**

_**I'll be fine.**_** She comforted, wasn't sure if the comfort was more meant for herself.**

**When she reached the entrance, the guards let her pass without a question; they'd already known her.**

**She expected him to be sleeping, but found him sitting cross-legged on the floor studying a piece of paper, so absorbed in thought that she had to clear her throat to drag him back to reality.**

"**I didn't expect to see you again." After a brief wave of shock crossed his face, he swiftly hid the piece of paper in his pocket and **_**flushed**_**.**

"**I didn't expect myself to visit you again, either." She shrugged icily; the darkness actually made her more confortable about what she was going to do. "But I'm here anyway."**

**Loki nodded and furrowed in concentration. She saw his mouth twisted, as if struggling to say something with his lips stuck together. She waited, but he remained silent.**

"**You don't have to say anything; you just listen, and after I finished, you can be spared from seeing me again." She said quietly, deeply disappointed by the apology he failed to mutter out.**

**Then, she went to the corner and sat down on the floor, facing him, wincing at the cold, hard texture of the ground. Loki remained quiet all the while.**

"**I'm here to tell you about my story—I know it sounds ridiculous, but for days, the urge to tell had haunted me, kept me away from rest and affected my appetite; Frigg and others are beginning to get suspicious about the mistakes I made during work." She had prepared herself for an awkward start, but as she sat on the floor in the dark dungeon, facing the man who behaved brutally in their last meeting, the words just came fluently out of her mouth. Maybe it was some strange automatic contingency reserve from sub-consciousness, or maybe she was just too eager to feel her story pronounced by herself.**

"**Although I **_**am **_**angry at you, your hypothesis was a good one, a brilliant one among many others I knew or heard during these years. As you pointed out, I'm a half-breed Elf, probably the only one left in the Nine Realms. My mother was a Light Elf, and like all her compatriot, she was blond, beautiful, kind, every good word you can think of. My paternal race was, unfortunately, not as clean and noble. My father was a soldier of the army ruled by Malekith. I didn't know how they met each other and fell in love, maybe they didn't, maybe he just forced her, but no matter what the progress was, they had me." For someone who didn't how sad the story was, it would be almost funny. There she was, surrounded by darkness and snoring of other prisoners, sharing her tragic life story with Odin's son. But at that moment, she felt safe to do this.**

"**All I know is, when I was still too young to remember, Malekith started the war and slaughtered the Light Elves, destroying everything in Svartalfheim, including my mother. The war lasted for so long that it seemed endless. If you really know so much about Elves as you claimed to the last time we spoke, you would understand the bond between Elves and their land. We are an ancient race, growing very slowly; most of us have lived for thousands of years to reach teenage—that's why we are wiser than other creatures; so is the realm we lived in. When Malekith devastated Svartalfheim, he wiped out every sustenance we had, every life source, every friendly soul. The lost was so great that it will take eternity for Svartalfheim to recover and when it does, Elves will die of hunger and poverty.**

"**Pretty ironic, isn't it? My father literally starved my mother to death. Every time I get sad because I don't remember any of them, I remind myself of their tragedy and immediately feel blessed to be ignorant." She smiled humorlessly and drew in a sharp breath to continue.**

"**And finally Borr came, with his brave soldiers, but still too late to save the planet. Malekith was defeated and the Dark Elves were gone for good. Your grandfather…" She stopped for a second, waiting for the denial that was destined to follow, but Loki said nothing, so she went on.**

"**To save the Light Elves from extinction, he brought the survivors here, no matter which side they belonged. Light Elves got to live in the tents they built temporarily, and the Dark ones were locked in this dungeon. I stayed in the exact cell you are living right now; only it wasn't as luxurious as it is now.**

"**But there were too many of us, and Asgardian soon feared their land and sustenance wouldn't be enough to support the refugee. Not a month after we were kindly rescued and considered ourselves in definite safety or definite imprisonment, Borr made a decision that shifted our future—to move some of us to Vanaheim.**

"**It wasn't as desperate as it sounded, though. Borr gave us choices. Those who wanted to stay in Asgard have to assist Eir with medical treatment, that is, to make our ability of transforming life energy a tool, a goods for sell.**

"**They all knew what was life going to be like in Vanaheim. People there have powerful magic and a very strict hierarchy in which Elves were considered to be in the lowest rank. But they chose to be slaves rather than stealing other creatures' life. I still remember the day Borr sent them away. The buyers came to pick which one of us they wanted, and one by one, they disappeared on the Bifrost. I stood there, watching everything, watching everyone. I told myself that they would come back, that they could outlive those buyers and come back when they were free; I told myself that it was natural to stay, to want to live an easy life, because I was just a five-hundred-year-old child. I told myself that they chose to be enslaved because they didn't know what the dungeon felt like at night, how bad the food tasted and how stinky the air was in here. And I watched my siblings leave one by one, feeding myself with lies ever since.**

"**I guess it's in the blood, my desire to live. Others seemed to be willing to sacrifice their lives for the purity of their souls, then why can't I?" She whispered, combing her hair with her fingers. "I think I know the answer, all along. I was just too afraid to say it. I have bad blood in my body and the dark instinct it brought is something I can't control."**

**Then she fell silent, a bit shocked by herself. She said it, aloud.**

"**It was always easy to believe in what's easier for us, and I did. But as I aged, as I was able to understand what everything felt, how pure their thought was, I knew I was lying to myself. And that was when I begun to accept the fact that I was selfish, greedy and disloyal."**

**Slowly, she withdrew herself from the memory and glanced around, adjusting herself to reality. When she was ready, she looked at Loki.**

**He was watching her with an expression she had never seen on others before, not on Elves or Asgardians. The flame in his eyes was intense in a way that was unreal.**

"**This is my story. A little different from the version you predicted, isn't it?" She smiled bitterly and planned to get up and leave him for good. But he stopped her.**

"**Do you want to know mine?"**

**She hesitated, wasn't sure it was something she would be interested in.**

"**I don't want to hear a story about a needy, childish prince who craved for a throne." At last, she answered.**

"**Oh, but do you want to hear the story about a half-Frost- Giant, half-human who was adopted by the All Father and ended up being a prisoner?" His quiet laughter sent a chill down her spine.**

**It took her a full minute to understand his word, and then she realized she was told of a forbidden secret in the Royal Family.**

**Obviously it was unwise to show any kind of emotion. She just remained silent and still.**

"**So you **_**are **_**interested, then." His smile was meant to be triumphant, but to her, it was heartbroken. "Let me see where to start, yes, so there was a little boy who considered himself a prince; he had everything, a loving family, a lot of toys and a palace to play hide-and-seek with his older brother. He had everything except for one: success. For years, his brother was always the favorable child and he was secretly jealous. He tried to do better; he read books, he learnt how to compose music and how to paint, he learnt magic from mother… But no matter what he did, his father would always ignore it and continue to praise his brother for everything.**

"**After they grew up, they faced the biggest competition ever: win the throne. He had no particular feelings for the position, but he hated to be defeated by his brother. He had to win this game, so he came up with a plan.**

"**He planned to let some Frost Giants in to steal their locked-up power. It wouldn't hurt anybody; the protector would end them all in a blink of an eye, but it would set his brother on fire and encourage him to seek vengeance. It worked and the imprudent brother was expelled from Asgard. He thought he would win, he would prove himself as great as his father and brother…**

"**But his sweet, little dream was broken. During the fight in Jotenheim, a Frost Giant grabbed his arm and touched his skin. Instead of being frozen, he found his skin changed into the similar blue like those ugly creatures. He replayed the scene a thousand times in his mind, trying to find an explanation in it. What he found destroyed him.**

"**He was the mongrel abandoned by Laufey, the leader of Frost Giant, and adopted by Odin as a tool to make a truce between the two realms. Suddenly, he understood why his father had never praised him, why he couldn't get his attention no matter how hard he tried. He realized his life was a huge lie." Loki's face remained expressionless as he told the story, but his eyes were no longer intense with the bright flame burning in it. His eyes were dead.**

"**He still remember how he felt when that Giant touched him: it was like something hidden in the deepest corner of your body had been awakened, like a monster being summoned to live. **_**He **_**is the monster that was summoned to live."**

**Suffocating silence. The only sound she could hear was her own rapid breathing. She would rather he had never told her this.**

"**You look surprised. You must be wondering secretly why no one knows about this. Mother kept it a secret. She feared if people know who I truly am, they would require an execution." Within seconds, he turned into his usual playful self and shrugged, making her solemn silence ridiculously exaggerated.**

"**You've been informed of the darkest secret of the Odin's family, be proud of yourself, not everyone get the chance to get near to the truth." He told her cheerfully.**

**It disturbed every plan she made before. After this share of life stories, she was no longer able to stay away.**

"**I don't know what to feel about you anymore." After a moment, she admitted.**

"**Don't feel anything about me. Just keep this secret safe."**

"**I suppose you're right." She nodded and stood up.**

"**Goodnight, Elf." Before she opened the gate, Loki whispered.**

"**Goodnight, Loki."**

**He stared at the spot where she sat for a minute, eyes narrowing in concentration. He was trying to picture her memory and found out it was even less pleasant than hearing it. Giving up, he reached into his pocket and took out the piece of paper he hid from the Elf.**

**It was a page tore from his notebook; the edges slightly burnt. On the picture, an Elf with pitchy, black hair stared at him warmly, her blue eyes bright as the ocean.**

**He smiled back at her, thanking himself for rescuing this page from the burning notebook after he violently threw it towards the invisible wall the last time they met.**


	10. Chapter 10

I'm sorry it took so long. Something came up and I had to deal with it. I could write this chapter in a hurry but that will be irresponsible. Anyway, I'm back now. So I hope you guys can enjoy it. Thank you for your supporting and review.

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**Poisonous Prisoner**

**Chapter Ten**

**Then her visits became a regular part of her life. To her surprise, Loki, apparently craved for any companion he could have, provided her with as many chances as possible to visit. He had asked his mother for a lot of things, and shortly, his personal cell had become more like a suite of a small tavern.**

**The only people that hindered their meeting were the guards. They had grown suspicious as the intervals between her deliveries shortened.**

"**Loki, I may not be able to come again this week." She told him, sounding strangely frustrating.**

"**Why is that?" He was immediately alarmed, retrospecting what he did wrong to drew her away.**

"**The guards are suspecting. It will not be long before they report it to Odin if I keep doing this."**

"**Oh… Annoying fellows, aren't they?" He let out a sigh of relief and brooded over this issue for a moment. "How long did it take you to learn the transport trick from my mother?"**

"**Wha—about a week." She was confused by the change of subject, but the excitement shining in his green eyes reminded her of a mischievous boy playing jokes at his friend.**

"**A week… Not too bad, but certainly not very talented." He muttered under his breath, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he carried out the calculation in his head.**

"**I'm an Elf; I'm not born to do **_**tricks**_**." Slightly offended by his comment, she blushed and defended. She had grown close to Loki these days to drop sarcasm and jokes every now and then.**

"**Of course, of course." He shut her up with a wave of his fingers. "Maybe you weren't dedicate enough or maybe you just didn't meet the right teacher. Listen carefully, Elf, I'm going to teach you how to make a illusion." He announced with an exciting smile.**

**She searched every corner of his face to make sure he was serious enough.**

"**But Frigg only taught me for **_**entertainment**_** and I thought it was considered disloyal to teach outsiders tricks among magicians, especially an Elf like me." Hesitantly, she reminded.**

"**The hell with those bloody rules. Besides, what can you do with illusions, murder Odin and start a war?" When he jested, his eyes danced like the first beam of sunshine over the horizon. "And I'm not a magician by lineage, I'm a Frost Giant, I'm famous for my foxiness."**

"**But…" She had a feeling she was signing some kind of contract with him. If she accepted his offer, she would have no excuse to step away when she wanted to, she would have to keep visiting him for as long as possible. It wasn't a light promise to keep. She needed time to consider.**

"**Is it a deal or not, Elf? Give me an answer." He demanded, seeing through the inner reasoning that was going on in her head.**

"**I can try, but I have no talents in this and will not guarantee you anything." Chewing on her bottom lip, she finally agreed.**

**Ever since that agreement, Loki had dedicated himself to teaching her to do create an illusion. The magic was ancient and therefore very complex, so he had to start with the basic lectures explaining how it worked.**

**She tried not to get too involved in his feverish impulse, but soon found out she couldn't resist the infectious excitement.**

**Loki radiated a certain charisma when he was teaching. Sometimes, he would pace around his cell, muttering the complex theories in a speed so rapid that the words all blurred together; sometimes, he would lie lazily on his bed and watch her try to get her blurry, unstable illusion pass through the wall and into the cell; at other times, he would skim through the piles of books violently, trying to find the name of a great magician in history he had forgotten…**

**At first, she thought Loki was incapable of **_**loving**_**, but the fire burning in his eyes proved her wrong.**

**The Loki teaching tricks and reciting interesting stories of other great magicians were so different from the imprisoned Loki that she always forgot why he was locked up.**

**On the right days, his pure green eyes reminded her of the ancient, deep forest back in Svartalfheim.**

**As she could perform the trick adroitly, she got to spend more time with him. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing.**

**The dungeon seemed more dangerous and safer in the same time: more dangerous the place at night, all consumed in darkness, carried a deadly atmosphere; safer because in that room which felt more like a luxurious guestroom in the palace than a cell, she could finally be away from all those daily routine and errands and enjoy a moment of true peace. Sometimes, she enjoyed the peace so much that Loki's presence was forgotten.**

**Usually, they would just sit on the bed and get lost in their own imaginary world, not breaking the silence all night. He would pour himself a glass from his grand wine collection and sip it with a book in hand. There was something extremely arrestive about the way he read: every time he read a paragraph he likes, he would recite it out aloud unconsciously, while his eyes wandering to a place that could reach the end of the universe. She enjoyed his little hobby more than she should.**

**When silence no longer worked, and when awkward began to sink in, they started to talk, the topics varying from things as tiny as an ant to matters as abstract as the universe.**

"**Really, ****Gná,**** how come I never speak to you before?" One day, he wondered after they shared their opinions on "Destiny" and both agreed that it existed in a very strange way: the more you fought it, the more determined it became to control you.**

**The sound of her name being pronounced by him made her pause. It was the first time he used her name rather than "Elf".**

"**Because before you are here, you didn't have time to discuss matters serious as this with women." She answered, a smile that could only be described as teasing spread through her lips.**

"**True." He assented, playing with his wine glass. "You're clever, darling, smarter than all the women added up in this realm."**

"**If you save half of the time you spent in seducing women and use it in more meaningful business, you'll be insightful as well." She had learned not to be prevailed by him in an argument. The words were meant to be teasing, but somehow, the sourness in her tone made both of them furrow.**

"**It seems like my **_**anecdotes**_** are very… renowned among ladies." Clearing his throat, Loki soon recovered from the brief embarrassment and performed a playful, crooked smile.**

"**Notorious may be the right word." She corrected, also smiling playfully in order to make it look like a joke.**

"**It can't be!" He protested with a dramatic raise of eyebrow. "I know how those youthful maids gossip about me at lunch table. I have to say, laundry room is much more interesting with me filling in every conversation that lasted longer than ten minutes."**

**She shook her head and giggled. Though refusing to show any kind of agreement, she had to admit in her heart that every woman that could be considered as handsome had a secret crush on Loki, no matter how much she claimed to hate him. Out of nowhere, a bitterness that almost tasted like jealousy filled her body, making her freeze abruptly in the middle of laughter and make out a ridiculous gasp.**

"**I have no way of knowing since I spent most of the time with Fulla, who refused to visit you because of your infamous reputation." To pretend nothing was wrong, she lied.**

"**Reputation." He snorted loudly, shocking his head in disbelief. "Did that pretty singer really used that very word?"**

"**No. I did." She furrowed, wasn't sure which she was feeling angry about, his obvious disdain towards the word or the fact he remembered Fulla was the singer.**

"**Then you are **_**not **_**as smart as I thought you were." Suddenly, the smile in his eyes died and was replaced by a light that resembled the cold radiance of a sharp dagger. "I don't have such things as **_**reputation**_**, Gná. It doesn't suit me just as gentleness suits a beast."**

"**Yes, you do. Everyone has one. It's what others comment you." She refuted in a whisper.**

"**But, ****Gná****, why should you care about what others think?" His voice softened and became comforting. Unable to move her eyes away from his penetrating gaze, which now turned back to the warm forest that reminded her of home.**

"**I just… Do." She stuttered out.**

"**Tragic." He stated, releasing all his power now to dizzy her with just his eyes. "What's your reputation,**** Gná****?" His deep voice held of a texture of feather, tickling her, paralyzing her. He was leaning closer, with his eyebrows pulled together in wonder and curiosity, eyes focused on her with intensity.**

"**I… Don't know." Without even realizing it, she muttered out.**

"**According to what I heard, it was distant." Now his words were barely a whisper. To understand it, she had to stare at his lips, which was even more distracting.**

**Unconsciously, she nodded.**

"**But you are not distant for me." As he spoke, his lips kept moving closer.**

**At first she thought some of the prisoners were improvising some drumbeats in other cells; then she realized the violent sound was her own heartbeat.**

**Loki tease her by leaning even closer, until their lips were inches apart, but before he could stop himself, he moved forward and kissed her.**

**Then next the he knew, the woman disappeared in front of him, leaving a trace of dreamy, golden light that burned his retina.**


	11. Chapter 11

I realized that setting the whole passage in bold can be hard on your eyes, so I changed it to regular. Sorry about it. Please protect your eyes and enjoy reading it!

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**Poisonous Prisoner**

Chapter Eleven

Gná blinked and took a deep breath to steady herself. She was in her room, sitting on her bed. Asgard's cool night breeze went in through her open windows and yet she was sweating; her blood was flushing in her veins.

_Breathe. It was not real._ She calmed herself.

No, it wasn't real, because she couldn't smell the scent of Loki when he leaned closer, she couldn't feel his breath on her face when he spoke, she couldn't feel his lips when he kissed her. She felt nothing because it was only her illusion in the prison every night, not _her._ And the woman Loki kissed, or tried to kiss, was not her.

She didn't know what to think about this as she couldn't maintain her usual unbiased, placid coolness. Her heart, oh, her _heart _was beating so violently that she feared it would die of exhaustion the next second. Yes, the mixture of excitement and fear… She felt alive.

As she began to slowly accept the reality that Loki did try to kiss her, she couldn't control the anger burning inside her body.

Who did he think he was? Who did he think _she_ was?

Loki, with his irresistible charm that could win anyone's affection if he wanted, would not hesitate for a second to flirt with her, the only female tangible. He was using her, if not teasing.

She, having lived in this realm for all these years, having met all sorts of people, still hadn't found someone to occupy her mind and heart, not even the bravest warrior or the wisest scholar, so why should her feelings be so violent towards a sinner?

There were so many thoughts crowding in her head that she was afraid if she didn't talk to someone, her head might explode. But who could she talk to? Loki was right: she was distant, cold and lonely, and she preferred it this way.

When she regained calmness and rationality, it was almost dawn; the first sunbeam danced on the edge of the mountains, adding a fresh tone of pink into the dark blue sky; it was hard to believe the sky could contain two things so opposite at the same time. Within fifteen minutes, the first plume of smoke would come from the chimney and it would be time to work. If there was one thing she could be certain, it was that nothing should influence her job.

Time passed slowly and by lunchtime, she felt tired, so she refused the invitation from Fulla and dined alone in the corner of the bar, hoping some private brooding could help.

Usually, no one would interrupt or even notice her hiding in the darkest corner, deep in her own thoughts. Again, her every actions proved Loki true. For some reasons she didn't know, she actually minded this. So when Heimdall set down his wine bottle across from her, she was slightly relieved as she got a companion, even regardless of the mixture of respect and fear she felt towards the man.

"You haven't touched the food since you sat here." The old man noticed. It appeared that he had brought his insightful nature to every aspect in life and she, for some unknown reasons, disliked him for this.

"Busy morning." She explained while letting half of the truth out.

"That lively singer seemed to be enjoying herself." He tilted his head towards a crowd with Fulla giggling merrily in the center.

"That's because Fulla doesn't have to listen to every creature's thoughts in this realm." She kept her eyes on the food to make her words sound friendlier.

"You Elves always feel burdened by your gifts rather than grateful and blessed. It's not a very wise thing to do."

"It's not a very blissful talent, either."

Wisdom, no matter how attractive it was on others, didn't suit Heimdall at all. To her, it only made him aggressive and complex. And because he was as fully aware of her past as he knew the shape of his hands, she couldn't help but to decipher hidden meaning behind his every move. But like she couldn't disclaim her talent, he couldn't disown his ability to see everything, and therefore always meaning more than his words indicated was an eternal flaw imprinted on his personality.

"For centuries, I've watched you punish yourself on a thing that can't even be called a mistake, Gná. Has it ever occurred to you that you actually did the right thing?" If there was one person who concerned Heimdall besides Loki and the enemies, it was this Elf who considered herself as a sinner ever since she was a child.

"Heimdall, pray, spare both of us from this _ancient_ argument." Unable to add another trouble, she prevented him from saying another word. "I already have matters troubling me."

"So you do regard it as trouble and not an escape from the bitter reality?" The wise man stared at her with penetrating gaze. When the two people he worried about the most in this realm met and got to know each other, Heimdall couldn't resist but to interfere anymore.

Gná froze. How could she be so blind and not detect the real purpose of the Gate Keeper?

"I saw what happened last night, Gná, and I can't remain silent."

"Nobody asked you to be silent. I'm simply requiring you to be quiet around me." Anger boiled in her heart and all she could do was throwing every mean word she could think of at the elder.

"Loki is not a regular Asgardian, he is… Complicated. You'd better stay away while you still can." He warned calmly, but the authority in his voice was evident.

"No, you're wrong. I'm the one who's abnormal." She corrected him with a cruel smile so alien to her mild features that it evoked the long-suppressed fear in Heimdall's heart.

"And don't underestimate me, Gate Keeper. I'm not that easily-led by anyone." It was the first time she ever spoke to others like this, but her anger was like a bronco, wild and primitive, impossible to control. Eyeing the old man almost triumphantly, she tasted the first trace of sweetness of revenging. It heightened her senses, made her head dizzy and her icy blue eyes sparkle with craziness and heat.

"No, you're wrong, Gná. You don't know how much you look like him right now." Staring into her eyes for a long time, Heimdall said with an incredible calmness that put out the fire in her heart. And before she could calm herself from the craze storm she experienced seconds ago, The Guardian left.

She sat there and listened to her heartbeat. She had never felt more alive and more dangerous in her entire life. Accidently, she saw her reflection on the silver plate on the table and gasped in surprise. She couldn't recognize the woman.

The woman in the reflection had the same pale skin and dark hair as she did, but that woman was more… Vivid. Her eyes no longer looked pale and lifeless with the sparkles in it, instead, it looked vigorous, passionate, even crazy.

She had seen those sparkles before, though not in the same eyes.

A quiet whimper came out of her mouth.

She had seen the frenetic light in _his_ eyes. Loki's eyes.

_You don't know how much you look like him right now…_


	12. Chapter 12

**Poisonous Prisoner**

Chapter Twelve

Gná sometimes wished she was a Midgardian who had gods to believe in when she doubted, to count on when she needed, to pray to when she desired, and to blame for when she regretted. Having something, or someone to rely on would make the insufferable reality better. It was foolish and self-deceiving, but easier.

But she was an Elf; that meant all she was able to believe in was the ever-lasting balance of the universe, a force powerful and steady enough to function the Nine Realm. She had always been fearful to that invisible power and had obeyed it in every way possible. She thought that _balance _liked her.

She was wrong.

If that abstract balance liked her, it would not end things this way. It would not let that midnight kiss be the last time they met before Frigga's death. And it would certainly not push Loki to accept Thor's offer of vengeance and die in Svartalfheim.

At first, she just didn't know how to face him, so she delayed her visits, refused to send her illusion into the cell at nights. And as clever as Loki, he knew well not to rush her. He, too, did nothing.

But when she decided to play dumb and continue the visits, Odin summoned as much security as possible to guard the mortal, leaving her no time besides patrolling around the palace and getting enough rest.

And then Frigga died. She punished herself with not eating anything or seeing anyone for days, missed the Queen's funeral, gave up the last chance to see her face and finally, walked into the dungeon to tell her son the terrible news. She thought it best to let him hear it from her, because she, naively, thought they shared a bond.

And she waited again, for Loki to calm himself, for the right moment to visit again. It never came. One afternoon, when she was attending the horses in the stable, Fulla ran to her and told her breathlessly that Loki broke out of the prison with the assistance of Thor, Sif and the Warrior Three.

The war against Malekith only lasted for less than an hour in Asgard and then Thor was back, with the news of the great victory and the death of Loki. Nobody mourned for him, all was happy and relieved, no one understood her sorrow as the only one who understood her faded away forever.

REALITY

Another night without rest. Her face was even paler than before as dark circles appeared under her eyes. There were so many crazy thoughts and unpleasant memories burdening her head that her temples throbbed painfully, as if threatening to explode.

She didn't mind at all. If this was the way Loki wanted, then she should at least do that for him.

_If this is what you wanted._

It was the day she should be attending horses. Every ten days, Odin sent her to the barn to feed those handsome creatures and talk to them, understand them, comfort them in the way only belonged to her.

Among many other animals, she liked horses the best, for they had the kindest eyes and the prettiest features. In the barn, where the air filled with the scents of leather, straw and dirt, she could sit there, murmuring everything that came to her mind to those quiet, magical beings for all day. In fact, before she accepted the errand to visit Loki, she often came to see the horses at sleepless night, to hear the steady breaths of them.

Long before she stepped into the stable, horses neighed in recognition, welcoming her. It was Sleipnir, that beloved pet of Odin. Like his master, that stallion had qualities of a leader. Soon, the stable was filled with hissing sounds of horses as they made out her scent.

As a show of respect, she came to the exciting Sleipnir first. His grey hair was exactly the color as Odin's, glowing like sun. In a funny condescending manner, he lifted one of his forelegs, nudged her slightly as a greeting, causing her chuckle.

"Oh, old Sleipnir, have you realized how much you resemble your master?" She handed one apple to him while stroking his muscular neck gently. The horse gave a satisfying hiss and ignored her existence to enjoy the snack.

"I guess you just don't like me that much." She murmured, patting the eight-legged horse understandingly. Like every other species in the Nine Realms, horses also had preference towards everything. This magnificent steed of The King certainly had no particular feelings towards her, simply regarding her as his servant.

She checked his legs and teeth, made sure he was in the best condition and stopped him from trying to steal another apple from her pocket. Because of the extraordinary resemblance between Sleipnir and Odin, she quickly turned away, finding it hard to _love _either of them.

She handed out the apples, greeting each of them in the gentlest way possible until she reached Hófvarpnir and took out the sugar cubes she prepared especially for him. Hófvarpnir was the only preference she had, possibly, in this realm. The beloved stallion spread his white wings pleasantly to welcome her entrance.

"Hello, sweetheart." She murmured under her breath, caressing his strong forelegs passionately then placed an affectionate kiss on his nose, causing him to puff out in satisfaction.

Then, careful not to speak too loudly and let other horses overheard, she began to tell him everything. Nobody knew she had deep conversations with steeds every ten days, because nobody would understand, but for her, horses had a way of detecting and understanding others' thoughts, and they were good listeners, than the most of the Asgardians.

"I had strange dreams these days." She told Hófvarpnir with a wistful furrow while brushing his snow-white hair. In response, the horse heaved sympathetically.

"I'm alright now, darling. Don't worry about me." She soothed his concern away in a gentle manner that she had never revealed to others before. Horses were much better companions than Asgardians. "And I think about him frequently these days."

They both fell silent, mourning for the man she mentioned.

"You didn't know him very well, did you?" She waited until the horse shifted his legs impatiently, urging her to keep talking. "He's… complicated, most of the time. I like to think that I know him better than others, to consider myself as the one truly understand him, but I can't, he is too unpredictable."

The conversation was soon too sophisticated for Hófvarpnir to catch up, and he just let her go on without any interruption, enjoying his special treat of apples and sugar cubes.

"Every time I felt he was close to me, within reach, he would say something awful and push me away; every time I felt he was distant and cold, he would—

She stopped, suddenly had a feeling that someone was watching her. So, holding her breath, Gná looked around. There was nobody in the stable, but the uneasy feeling didn't vanish.

Then, when she looked above, a huge eagle perching on the beam was staring at her so quietly that she nearly screamed in shock.

"For Freyr's sake!" She gasped, leaning on the column to support herself from collapsing in shock. It had never happened to her before. No other creatures had sneaked behind her back as this abnormally quiet eagle did, since she could hear their every thought.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered to the bird, which was still staring at her wide-eyed, its fierce yellow eyes as sharp as a dagger. Unable to stand its strange gaze anymore, she decided to read its mind, but the moment she concentrate herself, the bird gave out an angry cry and flew towards her, its wings were so large that they nearly blow her down. Hófvarpnir puffed anxiously in echo.

"Shh…" She shushed the terrifying horse while eyeing the eagle soothingly, widening her eyes as hard as possible to assure it that she meant no harm. It was the first time that an animal was being… unfriendly to her.

"You don't want me to read your thoughts, so I won't." She comforted breathlessly, fearing the bird's sharp claw would injure her horse's delicate skin. Then as if satisfied with her promise, the eagle made truce with an bow of head that could only be described as _condescending_. She almost laughed.

Her fear that the aggressive hawk would scare Hófvarpnir was somehow pointless. They got along peacefully, without any conflict. The eagle perched on the horse's back almost smugly and the horse enjoyed his companion. Actually, the two animals were so harmonious that it made her existence seemed completely needless.

There was something very odd about the hawk, but when she scrutinized its every move, she couldn't find out what it was except for its growing preference towards her. In the end of that night, it followed her out of the barn and all the way back to her room. When she closed her door, it even perched on the willow outside her windows, still staring her with those gleaming yellow eyes. She tried to expel it away, but no matter what she did, it seemed to be glued on that branch. So she finally gave up and went to sleep. To her surprise, under the scrutinizing gaze of that hawk, she slept well that night.


	13. Chapter 13

I thank you again for the reviews and support you gave me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. That's the biggest motivation! Love you, xoxo.

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**Poisonous Prisoner**

Chapter Thirteen

Next morning she woke up, the eagle was still there, right where she remembered it was; even the angle of its claws clinging to the branch was unchanged. It gave out a deep tweet as a greeting.

She should, _would _just ignore it and change her night robe into the blue dress she favored, but the way the bird stared at her made her uncomfortable. Though feeling stupid, she went to shut that peculiar animal out of the windows.

The bird followed her everywhere. Close when she was alone, far away when she had company. When she went to the bar to have lunch, it waited patiently outside the house. She didn't mind it except for the constant gaze on her, but maybe that little creature was just homeless and lonely, in need of an owner, a friend like she did. Thinking of this, her heart softened and she decided to ignore it.

Unlike those aggressive predators, this hawk was quiet and… elegant, if an eagle could be called elegant. A perfect pet to keep. She didn't even have to provide it food and water; this competent bird seemed to be taking care of itself just fine.

To her surprise, she had grown to enjoy its company as days passed. At night, it will watch her silently on the willow tree like her personal guard, and almost magically, the troubling dreams stopped ever since. Maybe it was her subconscious knew she was not alone, unprotected, maybe that bird had some ancient power that existed only in legends. Whatever the reason was, they became partners.

But it seemed that it has flaws after all, not as perfect as she imagined. Possessive, for example, was one of the many defects it held, sometimes so possessive that it became aggressive.

That day, when she was taking a walk with Fulla at the edge of the forest, they ran into Fandral. The warrior greeted them cheerfully and joined their leisure afternoon walk soon after. Fulla was thrilled to have a male, especially one as charming as Fandral, to entertain them, intrigue her with his old adventurous stories that he had told many times before; Gná, on the other hand, felt uneasy and embarrassed. After their conversation on the day she healed his arm and her erotic dream about him, she didn't know how to face him, not to mention it was in front of her nosy friend.

However, Fandral seemed to face her just fine, with his usual humorous jokes and desperate desire to impress them.

"Have any of you got summoned by Odin these days?" Finally thought of something interesting to talk about, he asked excitedly.

The ladies both shock their heads.

"Well, that's strange, isn't it? Nobody saw him for days." He mused. This topic successfully drew their attention.

"Somebody said that Odin was too old to govern Asgard. I encountered his maids and guards in the bar, they told me that he hadn't given orders of any kind for days!"

"Maybe he was too sad to do anything, still drowning in grieves." Fulla sighed sadly, her long eyelashes flapped like the wings of hummingbirds, unaware of the effect her words made on her Elf friend.

"One of the guards told me he went into the Odin's Sleep." Fandral lowered his voice dramatically in order to draw the women's beautiful heads closer to his. In fact he had no idea about what Odin was doing, he just wanted to gain their curiosity.

"But who's going to protect this realm if Odin's deep asleep? Thor was still in Midgard." Gná wondered.

"Heimdall was considering sending Thor a message to call him back to be the ruler temporarily, if not permanently, which is not a bad idea at all, don't you think? Thor was supposed to be king anyway, why not let Odin have some peace when he was not young anymore."

Something heavy landed on Gná's shoulder with a puff of wind. The warm temperature and the texture of feathers told her that her nighttime guardian had joined their little discussion.

"Oh, whose bird is this?" As every other male, Fandral had a common interest in everything dangerous and lethal, no exception for the graceful king of the sky.

"Oh, _Gná_, tell that bird to behave!" Fulla fringed farther away, fearing and despising the animal at the same time.

"You never told me you have an eagle." Fandral eyed her with widened eyes, an admiring smile spread through his lips, as if owning an eagle would somehow make her deadly attractive all of a sudden.

"He's not mine. I found him in the stable and he seems to consider me as his owner." She winced a little as the eagle pecked her ear when she pronounced the word "owner", obviously annoyed by her choice of word.

"Beautiful one, he is." Fandral complimented, raising his hand to stroke the bird. With the ferocity of a shark and the speed of a lightening, the eagle struck the warrior's hand with its sharp talons.

All of them were taken aback, Fandral quickly withdrew his hand, Gná half-forced, half-comforted the bird to calm down and Fulla screamed in the highest pitch she was capable of giving out. When they all recovered from the shock, Fandral's hand was bleeding heavily, deep scratches was left on his palm.

"And a fierce one, too." He laughed, his voice shaking, examining the scars with great concern.

"I'm truly sorry, Fandral. It had never happened before. He…" The Elf assisted him to stop the bleeding clumsily and tried to come up with an excuse for her newly pet. "In fact, he's never been so close to anyone before."

Fandral grunted something under his breath, apparently suppressing the urge to snap at her and the bird. Gná frowned slightly. He was not at ease as the last she saw him injured.

"I'll clean it up." Unable to find anything that could be used as bandage, she tore off the rim of her dress and wrapped it around the bleeding scar, held his hand in hers in order to stop the bleeding. The eagle screamed hysterically all the while, using its wings to spat her shoulders in an attempt to hinder her movements.

"Wow… Your bird certainly has a hot temper. Ouch, please be careful. It can left scars." The man cautioned and chuckled nervously, eyeing the eagle with a mixture of fear and annoyance.

"I'm terribly sorry." She apologized once more, too ashamed to look him in the eyes, so she kept her gaze on his hand and realized that was the same arm she healed days ago but there was no sign of a bandage. "How is your arm?"

"My arm?" At first, confusion crossed the blonde's features and was immediately replaced by understanding and amusement. "You know, you are actually the second one to ask me about my arm these days. Eir, not long ago, had the same concern, too. Logical, isn't it, that a warrior who went through so many wars would get injured and bled for my king? But, my love, I'm afraid I have to tell you that no one has the ability to injure me so far."

As he spoke, triumphant and pride painted his tone. Fulla soon was charmed by his brave speech and heroic actions and rushed him into telling some anecdotes of the war, leaving Gná attending the wound and brooding silently.

Obviously Fandral lied, but he would possibly do so in order to look courageous in front of the ladies; his plan went on well judging by Fulla's growing admiration towards him.

"So, Eir told you about my… rumored accident?" Couldn't stop himself being greedy, the blonde picked up that topic again, trying to win both of the girls' interest.

"Um…" She hesitated, didn't know whether she should tell the truth, but decided not to when she saw the sparkle of affection in the other woman's eyes. She'd better stay out of whatever was going on between these two. "Yes, she told me."

"Well, I guess she was just concerned about the heroes after all." The charmer shrugged and went back to repeat that famous tale of his to charm the beautiful singer even further.

Since there was not much room for her and she was too disappointed in the man's desperate lie to win affections, Gná excused herself and trotted away from their annoying laughter. That eagle rested on her shoulder protectively all the time.

"Thank you for spoiling our walk." She scolded the hawk ironically and gave it a light clap on the head as a punishment. To her amusement, the bird took that pat in a completely different manner: it closed its eye, looking more comfortable than ever, and make out a soft tweet that was almost victorious. This behavior surprised her and made her forget to feel upset about the foolish lie of Fandral.

"Well, now you got me on your service fully, enjoy your victory while I still let you." She nuzzled the eagle's soft feathers and whispered, admiring this intelligent creature even more as it expelled all the doubts and worries in her mind with just a single move. With true affection, she tilted her head and pressed a loud kiss on the eagle's shiny grey wing. The bird spread its wings and patted her cheek in response, as if pecking her gace in its own manner.


	14. Chapter 14

I have to say that the character Fandral may be a little different from the one presented in the films. I love Fandral and Zachary Levi, but I have to make Fandral into a shallow charmer in order to bring tension to this novel. Forgive me if I offended your opinions towards this character.

Enjoy your reading and please review!

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**Poisonous Prisoner**

Chapter Fourteen

"_I told you, do not have feelings for me." The familiar voice echoed in the darkness, sounding cold and evil._

"_Fandral?" She was confused. There she was surrounded by darkness, the only thing indicating she wasn't alone was Fandral's voice. She looked around, but he was nowhere to be found._

"_Did you miss me?" The voice asked, a mischievous smile leaked through the words. "Answer me, do you not remember I told you not to have feelings for me?"_

"_What?" She murmured under her breath, frowning in confusion. "Fandral, you never said this to me."_

"_He didn't. I did." With a sudden yet smooth change, the voice became deeper and rustier, only the evil touch remained unchanged._

"_Loki." She whispered in recognition, searching helplessly around, only to find nothing. The temperature kept falling, soon there was fog gathering in the air when she breathed out. It began to snow._

"_I have to remind you of me so that you would keep me in your forgetful little mind." He hissed, sending a chill down her spine._

"_Loki, where are you? Where am I?" She called, embracing herself to keep away the cold._

"_Darling, you are in the very place I was born." He let out a dark chuckle, and then the darkness began to fade away._

"_Jotenheim." She acknowledged._

"_That's right, love. I died where you belonged, and you have to know the place where I came from." Hot breaths brushed her neck. She gasped, turning around to see Loki, in his fancy emerald robe, staring at her intensely. "Pleasure to see you, darling." A crafty smile sliced through his fine lips._

"_Loki…" The sight of him was so real that she couldn't find her tongue at first; calling his name was all she had strength to do._

"_You are shaking like hell. Here." He eyed her with great concern, and untied his cloak to wrap it around her. The cool silk sent another shiver down her body._

"_Look around, my love, and watch. This is the place I was born, the place I belonged and the place I was supposed to die as a baby. Spectacular, isn't it?" He caught her shoulders and guided her to turn and watch. They were suddenly on a cliff: the ground was covered by snow, the sky dark and starless, wind as sharp as knives peeled in the thin fabric they were wearing. Everything was so…_

"_Silent." Her word was barely a whisper, too afraid to break the eternal quiescence._

"_Exactly, and lifeless, too." He assented, so close to her that she could feel the heaving chest when he was breathing on her back; another electric shock that had nothing to do with the freezing wind tasered her._

_Sensing she was trembling, he put his arms around her and clenched tightly._

"_Not an ideal place to live, right?" Loki hissed slowly in her ears, his hot breath tickling her sensitive nerves; __Gná felt the strength was being __vacuumed clean __from her legs._

"_You're still cold, shaking." He noticed, his voice warmer than ever. She closed her eyes, restoring the sound of him in her mind, and then felt something like feather tickled her neck. It was his eyelashes. He was burying his face in the curve of her collarbone._

_She gasped as he sunk his teeth in her delicate skin and nipped. She had to use her every pole to stop herself from turning and touching him._

"_People say you're cold, indifferent, especially that foolish Fandral among them." He whispered, imprinted several bruises on her pale neck, sucked on her pulse and smiled when he felt her heart pounded frantically. "I think it's time to prove them wrong, don't you?"_

_She gave out a throaty scream when his hands grabbed her waist. Through the fabric, the warmth of his palms passed on to her. Before she had time to react, he moved forward and captured her lips. The sensation overwhelmed her…_

_She had secretly fantasized about it for countless times, but never once did she prepare for THIS. He was like an ocean. No, he WAS on ocean. His scent drowned her, his heat surrounded her, his texture paralyzed her._

_He broke the kiss to let her gasp for air, all the while locking their gaze, his green eyes melted into a clear liquid that reminded her of the spring in the mountain back home._

"_Now, let's do this again: did you miss me?"_

"Yes." She said, her voice thick and breathless, but she was no longer in the deserted Jotenheim anymore. She was her room in Asgard, soaked by her own sweat.

The dreams were back, again, after such a long absence. Instinctively, she looked out her windows to search for that protective eagle that was always perching on the willow branch loyally, but all she saw was the full moon on the sky. So tonight, her personal protector was out and that was why the disturbing fantasies happened.

Shaking uncontrollably, she got up and paced around the room. Her thoughts lingered back to that dream every five seconds, yearning for the feeling of him. She couldn't believe what had just happened, she couldn't believe that not only Loki didn't want her to move on, but also she, herself, didn't want it either. If that was the case, then she was hopeless.

She felt like her room was shrinking around her, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Desperately in need of fresh air, Gná put on a long robe and went for a walk.

The pale moonlight gave the grandeur hallway an icy shade of silver that chilled her. She had no idea where she was heading to; it was just her legs that was moving stiffly forward. Flowers in the bushes all greeted and expressed their concern after seeing her rigid face, but she ignored them all and kept walking all the time.

Then, she stopped in front of the gate of The King's room, still had no idea why she was there. But the elaborately sculptured painting on those bronze gates seemed to have a rapid effect to calm her spinning mind and steady her frenzied breaths.

It was at that moment did she hear the two most respected men in this planet argued.

"Am I understood, Heimdall?" Odin's deep, authoritative voice came from behind the gates.

"Your Majesty, I have spoken to others, we think it was time for Thor to come back to Asgard." Heimdall's wise voice became louder as he spoke. Gná quickly jumped into the short, thick bush outside the hallway.

"Midgard needs him, the damage was too much for them to take." Odin disagreed, a degree of annoyance already leaked through his words.

By that moment, the two of the elders had paced out of the room and were standing in the hallway; even if she wanted to sneak away, she couldn't.

"From where I stand, the Earth is not as soft and incompetent was you thought it is. They have enough source and labor to rebuild their home. Putting Thor in the middle of it would probably cause more trouble." The Gate Keeper patiently argued, clearly not bent by Odin's evident anger.

"It is the debt my son and I had to pay for what Loki did to that planet!" The sudden outburst of the one-eyed man made both of the listeners jump.

There was a brief silence. Then with plain disapproval, Heimdall corrected:

"Loki assisted Thor and therefore stopped Malekith from ruling the universe. Your sons owe the other eight realms nothing. At least not this time."

She was taken aback by Heimdall's speech. He had never said one word mildly good about Loki to her.

"And yet, he did take thousands of lives from Earth. Speak no more, Heimdall, I've already made my decision. Give Thor some time to reunion with Miss Jane Foster. Dragging him back here does not mean we have his heart as well." Then, with a condescending goodbye, Odin went back to his room, leaving the all-seeing, all-hearing elder standing in the hallway with a frustrating sigh.

"Now, you can come out." After remaining silent for a long moment, he called facing the bush.

Gná cursed her bad luck and climbed out of the plants carefully, minding her silk robe that may be more fragile than her own skin not to get tore by the spiky branches.

"Odin would not be happy if he knows." The old man judged her with his placid golden eyes, his expression unreadable.

"So you are going to tell him?" She countered, tiptoeing through the warm dirt and finally, with the assistance of the Asgardian, got past the marble rails.

"Depending on why you are here."

"I couldn't sleep well."

"So you ended up hiding in the bush and eavesdropping my conversation with The King." He arched one eyebrow.

"Accident." She shrugged, pretending to be intrigued by the luxurious marble floor.

"I believe you." He nodded and started to walk.

"How is he, Odin?" She demanded, trying to keep up with his lengthy strides.

"You heard everything, you tell me." Unlike their former encounters, this time, Heimdall was definitely the one who was not in the mood of talking.

"No, I mean, how does he feel these days? I heard that he was not in a good state."

"It's not my position to tell." The man's lips pressed together, obviously still irritated by his talk with Odin.

"Did he really fell into Odin's Sleep?" To stop him going any further, she grabbed his arm and used every ounce of strength she could summon to drag back his attention.

"Gná, I'm just a Gate Keeper, remember? What goes on in that room is not my responsiblities. Actually, my responsibilities came from that room. So stop bothering me with your idiotic questions and go back to your room." Then, with a strong wave, he escaped her grip and rushed out of her sight, leaving her stunned and froze in the empty palace.

Watching his tall figure disappear into the shadow, she was even more curious. What would make the calm, rational Hiemdall snap like this? What could possibly irritate him besides his enemies?

She was determined to find out.


	15. Chapter 15

**Poisonous Prisoner**

Chapter Fifteen

For the next few days, Gná was suddenly the most royal follower of Heimdall. She waited by the hallway that he passed everyday, pretended to run into him by accident, and attacked him with endless casual talks until he lost his temper. Then she would, with an innocent smile hanging on her lips, threw out the one question she wanted the most: did he find Odin, in any way, unusual these days?

But no matter how many times she tried, regardless of how tactful her questions were or how hard she begged for answers, the man refused to say anything.

"Heimdall, please, I won't tell anyone." Finally, her patience was worn out.

"One more time, Gná, this is not something you could mess with. Mind your own business, kid." As usual, the Gate Keeper ignored her presence and continues to walk to the Bifrost in lengthy strides.

"You know I'm technically older than most of the Asgardians who looked my age." She reminded him, her heels cracking on the marble floor as she fought to keep up with the tall man.

"But still immature in many ways." He snorted.

"Heimdall, _Heimdall_, wait!" She leaped in front of him and managed to stop his pace. "Since when are you willing to give up a chance to talk to me? I recall that you are the one who started most of our conversations."

"Since when do you care about anything except yourself?" He countered. Seeing the gathering anger on her face, he continued. "We both know it's true. Days ago, you were stuck in your own past like you did for centuries, and all of a sudden you seemed to be deeply attracted by what was going on behind The King's door. Find a reasonable explanation to convince me it is not a trick."

The sudden fury in Heimdall's voice surprised her. He was so different from the kind elder who was constantly persuading her to move on and be frank with herself. But she supposed she deserved it. It was she, after all, who refused his kindness with sarcasm and dislikes.

All she needed to do was find a reason for her curiosity. She came up with a lot but none of them could stand for ten seconds under the insightful eyes of Heimdall. So she fell silent.

"Exactly what I pictured." He grunted under his breath and began walking again.

She didn't know what made her do this, but before she could realize it, she was chasing him again, this time, words boiling on her tongue like lava.

"Because I miss him." She said loudly, and the man froze. "I miss him, Heimdall, a lot."

Slowly, the Asgardian turned to look at her, his golden eyes shined with the surprise she had never seen before. Yes, she surprised the omniscient Guardian.

When he remained still for a moment, she opened her mouth again:

"I know that for many of you, he was not worth missing or mourning, but because I've seen the worst of everything already, he was certainly one hundred times better, to me, at least. And missing him, I can't help but care about the realm he once lived, I can't help but worry about the father he claimed to despise but secretly loved all his life. Call me selfish if you want, but it won't alter an ounce of my feelings for him." She didn't know how dangerous her words were, and that if someone heard this, _anyone_, she would face interrogation even execution. But there she was standing in the hallway, her fists clenching tightly by her side, her eyes glimmered with a steadfast light that reminded Heimdall of the demised Queen.

Pride struck Heimdall in a bittersweet way that melted his heart.

"So please tell me about The King." It was not a pleading but a require. Having voiced her deepest feeling, she had nothing to fear.

"It's too early, Gná, for any conclusion, even too early for speculations, but I will inform you when the timing is perfect, I promise." Heimdall's voice echoed in the empty space; it was so kind and so loving that it reminded her childhood fatasies of her father—at that time, she didn't know he was a royal follower of Malekith but thought him as a wise man who loved her and her mother with all his soul.

"Please keep your promise, Heimdall." She exhorted and left without another word.

Heimdall gazed the young woman walk away. Something changed in this short period of time and altered her entire existence in this universe; whether it was good or bad, he had no idea yet, but he was happy for the rebirth of the Elf.

Missing someone was a tricky thing, something she had never experienced before until the moment she stated it out aloud to Heimdall, the man who didn't have anything to do with any of this. There didn't have to be a trigger to those sudden floods of longing; the hollow feeling in your heart was random and ubiquitous. And there were many different degrees of missing a person: it could be a mild sadness that penetrated your calm surface at nights, gnawing your self-control remorselessly; it could be a fierce outbreak that attacked you out of nowhere, traumatizing you completely; it could be an urge to cry or it could be the reason you remain silence during the lucntime…

This was what Gná was going through. It was not pleasant, but she endured it, as if it would earn some peace to Loki.

And the dreams were coming back, especially at those nights when the eagle went away feeding himself with rats and rabbits. Maybe she hated knowing she was alone and the dreams were another form of her fear. Most of the dreams were based on her memories, only slightly different in details, but some of them were extremely awful.

And there was, somehow, a pattern in the occurence and the content of the dreams. Usually, when others, especially men talked to her during daytime, erotic dreams with Loki would follow at nights, and when she had spent most of the day thinking about him, the dreams would be merrier.

So her own subconciousness was spying on her.

Meanwhile, her relationship with Heimdall shifted to a different direction: she no longer tried to interpret the subtext in his words and he hadn't picked up the topic about her past once since her last confession about Loki. If she was willing to overlook the inner struggle, her life could be described as happy and content.

But she couldn't say that about her hawk. For some reasons, that bird disliked Heimdall with an inexplicable hatred. Whenever the Gate Keeper was approaching, he would fly away with the speed of light as if he was running from some kind of archenemy—if a bird was allowed to have one, that is. No matter how hard she tried to convince him that the dark Asgardian was just tough on the surface, that little creature wouldn't let himself be seen by Heimdall.

One day, she decided to take a walk with her nighttime protector since she had neglected him for quite some time. They went to the deserted path in the forest; she was probably the only one who knew these paths existed, so they would share the wonderful afternoon walk undisturbed.

"What are you doing these days?" She nearly sang out, breathing in the scent of trees and dirt. "You disappeared a lot during nights."

The eagle shook his head carelessly, as if shrugging his shoulders.

"Don't you think it's irresponsible to abandon me like that? I'm starting to get bad dreams while you were absent." She caressed his feathers gently, receiving the bird's affectionate peck on her fingers.

"But I'm happier, even with those dreams—don't ask me why, I myself don't know the answer yet. When I spoke frankly to Heimdall that night, it felt like a burden was being lifted from my heart; it took away so much pressure; I was freed…" She murmured to the bird that was staring at her with a curious gaze that was too wise for an animal. "I guess that's why people need friends, or family, or just someone to talk to. It really helps." The curiosity in the bird's eyes seemed to have deepened.

"And because it helps so much, I think I'll do it again." She looked into those yellow eyes intently, taking a deep breath. "I miss him. I miss him. I miss him."

Something sparkled in those yellow eyes.

"I did it, didn't I?" She giggled, her own laughter sounded strange and unfamiliar, but extremely attractive with the liveliness. "Thank you, darling, for being a wonderful listener." She pecked hard on the bird's neck, nearly breaking his bones. When the eagle screamed painfully in her embrace, she let him go, but still too proud of herself to hide the smile.

"Sorry, sorry, it won't happen again." She apologized. But her guardian seemed like he'd forgiven her already; he tweeted cheerfully and nipped her earlobe harder than ever. He looked as if he was… moved by her confession.

They were so caught up in their communication that the approach of Heimdall surprised them both.

"You got yourself a bird?" Heimdall's voice shocked them both. And when Gná was still in the progress of steady her breath, the eagle gave out a rather outrageous cry and flew away, causing a small windstorm with his wings.

"Come back, you!" She called behind the tiny dot in the sky, but he was determined to let her down. After some awkward silence, she finally turned. "Sorry, he was not very friendly to strangers—

Her voice quickly drifted off as she saw the Asgardian's facial expression: his eyes followed the eagle and stayed where he disappeared; his eyebrows pulled tightly together and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Heimdall, what's wrong?" She asked tentatively.

As if being woken from a dream, his head snapped back to her. "Uh… Nothing. It's just… it's just your eagle."

"What about him?"

"He seemed… intelligent, more than any animal I've seen." When he spoke, he scanned her with his piercing golden eyes.

"He is special, in some way, but I don't see anything inappropriate about that." She held her head up high, defending her eagle, slightly offended.

"No, there's nothing wrong about that." Heimdall agreed absently, eyes still miles away. "Excuse me for being rude. I'd better leave you alone for your leisure little walk." Then, without another word, he strode away in lengthy paces, leaving Gná astonished.


	16. Chapter 16

sorry for the delay of Chap sixteen. i'm working on AP biology and AP chemistry and the difference between since and writing a novel is huge. still working on it. thank you for your patience and please enjoy reading.

please review!

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**Poisonous Prisoner**

Chapter Sixteen

It was definitely the strangest day she'd had, but destiny didn't agree, so She added more troubles.

Before dinner, Fulla dragged her to the bar even though she was exhausted from the long walk in the forest.

"Sit here and stay still." That cheerful singer forced her on a seat and ordered, ignoring her scolding gaze all the while. The bar was full of people, even more crowded than usual; people seemed to be expecting something.

"Fulla, what's this all about? Can't I just go back into my room and rest?" She sighed, half-begging her friend with the most innocent smile she could manage.

"No, Gná, not today." The Asgardian shut her up by handing her a glass of wine. Fulla kept her eyes flikering to the entrance every few seconds, apparantly waiting for something or someone.

"Fulla, are you expecting something?" The Elf asked, confused. She tried to recall if that day was a memorial day of some important events but failed.

"Oh yes, be patient, Gná, and stop figgeting, drink!" The singer shushed her again.

Didn't want to disobey her friend, Gná took a sip from the glass and grimaced. Wine was the kind of beverage she wasn't used to have: the spicy taste attacked her tongue and soon she felt like her throat was on fire.

"I arranged it, delicious, isn't it? It's more suitable for celebration." Fulla giggled when she saw the painful look on the Elf's face, unaware of the information she just leaked.

"Celebration? What are we celebrating for?" The swift Elf demanded in spite of the whirling of dizziness in her brain.

"I'm not supposed to say anything before…" Fulla's face turned to a lovely shade of pink as she spoke. She hesitated for a moment then decided to let go of the surprise. "I'm engaged, Gná, with Fandral!"

_Blank_.

"Oh, sweetheart, you should _see _your face right now. I know, I am happy for myself as well." The Asgardian's face glimmered with merry light that could melt anything. Though she wanted to say something congratulatory back, Gná suddenly had trouble finding her tongue.

Was she disappointed after hearing the news? Maybe yes, because she just couldn't erase that different, gentle Fandral caressing the trees that afternoon out of her mind. Was she in love with that Fandral? She wasn't sure, but she did felt some kind of longing for him. Was she not happy for her frind? She certainly was, but somehow, she felt obliged to tell her friend about that encounter that altered her opinion towards Fandral in the clearing. When should she tell her? Definitely not now, or Fulla might explode in front of the crowd.

So she forced a smile and congratulated her friend; the joy didn't touch her eyes, however, but the woman who had recently found herself a fiance didn't seem to notice.

And then Fandral arrived, with a brriliant smile on his face. After announcing the news with his pretty wife-to-be, they received the kindest congratulations from the people. The party started; wine specially brewed by the best brewers were served and delicious food plied up in front of them. Everyone was surprised by Fandral's decision of settling down, but at the same time, they were desperately in need of something as happy as this to cheer them up.

Gná sat there, pretending to be engaged in small talks with others but her mind couldn't stop spinning. She had to find a chance to talk to Fandral.

So she waited until the bar was deserted. People were either too tired from the dancing or too drunk to notice her pressence. There were only Fandral, Fulla and her left in the room.

"Fandral." Approaching him carefully, she called. Fulla was unconscious in the warrior's arms.

"Yes? Did you enjoy the party, darling?" The man asked cheerfully.

"I did. It was a great party." She smiled absently, still figuring out a way to start the talk tactfully.

"How is your hand?" Finally, she questioned.

"It healed perfectly, thanks to your excellent skills."

"And your arm?"

"Gná, my arms are perfectly fine. You asked me the last time we met, remember?" Fandral looked confused.

"Yes, I remember, but I thought you were just being… But do you not remember our meeting at the edge of the woods where I helped you wrap your wound, which looked like it was caused by sword." She began to feel offended, for it was a valuable memory for her.

"No, I don't. I really didn't injure my arm, Gná. It must have been a mistake."

She searched his face, looking for anything that suggested a joke, but Fandral was authentic enough. So she tried one last time:

"But we did, we talked about my healing abilities and I told you about how the trees feel after I borrowed their life energy."

"Wait, Gná, I don't know what you're talking about, but there's possibly a mistake, because I really didn't have any kind of injury on my arms." A trace of annoyance crossed the warrior's face, and he swiftly rolled up his sleeves and revealed his muscular forearms to her. Like he said, both of his arms were fine, his skin smooth; there was no scar.

The evidence left her speechless.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I think I'd better take Fulla to her room now." Fandral said a quick goodbye and walked away as fast as he could. He probably thought her insane and delusional…

She needed time to think. The memory was so vivid that there was no way she had imagined it. But considering the dreams that had been haunting her, it may all came from her mind.

To make sure she wasn't insane, she went over that day in her mind again. She healed those soldiers, talked to those trees and Fandral, they were interrupted by Eir, Eir told her that Heimdall sent her because he couldn't see her…

Heimdall. Heimdall! He must know something. Gná jumped up from the seat and raced to the Bifrost.

The whole realm was deep in their sweet dreams, recovering themselves for the next day's chores. Walking down the Biforst alone, she was all alone; the tide spanked the black reef furiously with thunderous sounds, like an ancient monster awakened from a long, dull sleep… Humid wind brought the salty flavor of the ocean, penetrating the thin silk of her gown, making her tremble.

Before she made to the golden arch, she halted to an abrupt stop and steadied her breath. If what she feared was true, then the last thing she wanted would be letting Heimdall detect any of her speculations…

Putting on a calm mask, she stepped inside.

"Gná, what are you doing here at this hour?" Without turning around, the Guardian greeted, probably already seen her coming.

"Fulla is engaged." She told him, emotionlessly.

"So I heard. With Fandral, Odin knows how did they work it out." Heimdall gave a sarcastic snort.

"They just had a party. Why didn't you stop by?" Trying hard not to make any eye contact with the wise man, she studied the intricate carving on the wall.

"I figured they'd be more comfortable if I don't show up. I'm too old for those youthful, wild celebrations." He obviously was in conversational mood, for he seldom talked about matters other than his job. "I saw you there, drank a lot, which is not a common behavior for you. I assume you had a great time with the new couple?"

"Yes, I did. There's nothing I want more than finding Fulla have a family she always longed for." She agreed dryly.

"But something's troubling you." With a heavy sigh, the elder finished the sentence for her. "I should not be surprised about it, after all. Wisdom and swiftness can bring you great convenience, but it also has shortcomings, in your case, it's too much burden."

"It's Fandral that's the hardest part of the whole engagement. I thought he… we…" Finding hard to choose the suitable word to describe her feelings, she simply stopped.

"You think he would choose you?" Once again, the Elf took the all-knowing Asgardian aback.

"No! Certainly not. I'm happy for them both… I just… Well, Fandral and I had a really unforgettable encounter the other day. It was the first time that I actually listened to what he was saying. He was more than what he appeared to be before; he was thoughtful, appreciative of everything, not just Asgardians, but every creature on this planet… I just thought after what we shared during that talk, he would tell me first about this big news." She didn't if she was tricking Heimdall into leaking some information from his unique position anymore, because what she was saying was the truth.

"Tell me more about your conversation, child. I don't think I paid attention, and therefore I cannot help you." The warmness and concern in his voice made Gná's heart melt; she felt immediately guilty for using him, but she must prove that crazy assumption in her head wrong.

"Of course you don't recall this. It was on the day when you sent Eir to check up on me since you didn't see me. We were talking by the time Eir arrived." As innocent as she could, she carelessly let out, scrutinizing his every movement from the corner of her eyes. She saw Heimdall stiffened. Her heart stopped beating for a second for the risk she was taking, but it was a risk she must take in order to get nearer to the truth.

"You mean you were talking to Fandral that day?" Heimdall repeated dreamily, deep in thought.

"Yes, Eir saw him, too. Heimdall, why couldn't you see me?" Still faking innocent, she raised her gaze to search for answer, widening her eyes with all her strength, hoping she could mimic the heart-sweltering, pleading look from Fulla.

"Usually, when I couldn't see one, he or she was doing it on purpose." He didn't even look at her as he chewed on his lips, so Gná's effort was wasted.

"But can you see Fandral? It there something wrong with _me_?" As she stepping nearer to the truth, her heartbeat accelerated; that piece of muscle was now hammering her ribcage violently as Heimdall brooded.

"No, I didn't search for him since I was concerned about you…"

Her heart sank.

"Well, be easy on yourself, Heimdall. Eir and I both think you're too harsh on your job after the breach of the Giants. It's not going to happen again, you know, for Odin is as strong as always…" She forced herself to keep her voice unwavering and paused dramatically. "Well, Odin _is_ alright, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is, why wouldn't he be?" The Gate Keeper muttered absentmindedly, his thoughts still wrapping around the encounter he was told.

"You promised me to share whatever you found out about Odin." She reminded, all the while minding not to be too eager.

"Uh… I did, indeed, but Gná, it's still too early. Not now, maybe some time later."

"That's fine. Don't worry about it." She smiled sweetly to Heimdall, receiving a distracted nod. Then she walked to the exit. When one of her feet stepped out of the vaulted hall, she let out a gasp and turned to face the Gate Keeper again.

"Oh, Heimdall? Can you please tell me why you acted so strangely towards my hawk today? It's been troubling me all day. Is he sick?" A worried arch of an eyebrow was enough.

Maybe because she already shared so many of her worries with Heimdall that it was too unbearing to unbearable to be informed another, Heimdall gave the answer to this question without any hesitation:

"It's just your hawk seems incredibly intelligent to me, which makes him different from other creatures. Nothing you should be concern about." With a comforting smile, he wished her a good rest and went back to his job.

She left and kept walking until she went into her room, her private zone where no one would be watching, not even Heimdall. When she closed the heavy wooden doors behind her, she finally lost the strength to stand straight. She fell and fell, until she hit the cold marble floor.

First the dreams. Then the appreciative Fandral she attached to. More dreams. The eagle that appeared out of nowhere in the barn… Hófvarpnir wasn't even afraid of it; actually, her horse was afraid of every creature except Asgardians and herself… The strange light she saw in Odin's eye when he summoned her to prepare a celebration, the abnormal behavior of Odin…

A helpless shriek escaped her throat and echoed in her empty chamber. She felt like the whole world was spinning, so fast, that she was about to black out…

_No way. There's no way it's true._ Numbly, she convinced herself, but the persuasion was as untenable as a leaf in a storm.

She couldn't keep guessing like this, or Heimdall may find out first. At that time, she wouldn't have the chance to try.

Yes, she must go and find out herself, even if it meant she had to confront Odin himself.

Gathering all her strength, Gná got up and headed to the Gladsheim.


	17. Chapter 17

**Poisonous Prisoner**

Chapter Seventeen

She was gambling. She didn't gamble. She hated gambling. She regarded this game with nothing but a haunch foolish and irrational, but she was gambling, by heading to the Gladsheim and surprise her king with the stupid, delusional idea showed up in her mind just minutes ago.

The reasonable part of her was trying to push her back into her dark chamber.

_Don't be stupid, __Gná. _They say.

But her emotional side was whispering relentlessly into her ears, luring her with the beautiful possibilities of being right. _Just think about what will happen if you are actually right this time._ That little monster purred. The idea sent a thrilling tremble down her body. She shaked in the empty hall, gasping sharply for more air to clear her mind. But it seemed that the usual refreshing night air was drugged with unrealistic fantasies that night.

She knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself. She didn't want to stop herself.

So Gná didn't even stop to reset her velvet robe before she pushed the golden doors open and entered the Gladsheim.

She had never been in Odin's chamber alone, not to mention at an hour so late that The King himself might be sleeping. The throne sat proudly in the center of the room, like the king himself staring at her with his sharp eye. All of a sudden, the courage she gathered all the way to here faded in an instant.

"You do know that sneaking into the Gladsheim while the king's asleep is suspected of usurping, do you not, Elf?" The friction of clothes echoed from the entrance to her right. She quickly turned to face the All Father, but Odin hid in the dark shadows and refused to show himself.

"Why didn't you wait until tomorrow? What emergency will be urgent enough to make you sneak into my chamber at night, Elf?" Odin's voice was calm enough, but she didn't know if it was a good sign, so Gná continued to remain silent.

"Silence, won't provide me any reason to forgive your offensive actions." Slowly, the man stepped out of the shadow. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Odin dressed in a golden night robe, his silver hair set loose like a waterfall.

She waited until Odin came to stand in front of her, their bodies just inches apart: a generally inappropriate distance, but they both felt comfortable with it, like some magnet was pulling them closer. An extremely calm part of her brain added this little fact onto her inner speculation, and she knew, she had no choice but to brace herself for what was about to happen.

Both hands clenching tightly into fists, she looked up and embrace Odin's sharp gaze, his one light blue eye seemed almost grey under the pale moonlight.

"Loki, show yourself." When she whispered the words out, moist mists began to gather in front of her eyes rapidly, blurring her sight, so she closed her eyes. With her sight lost, she listened.

His breaths went deep, then came out with a sigh. He repeated the pattern for several times and then, a subtle but detectable change occurred in the sound of his breathing. It no longer sounded heavy, like it came out from an old man. His breaths became fluent and effortless, younger, stronger, healthier…

Before Gná's mind could connect this change with anything coherent, her eyes flickered open instinctively.

If anything could describe the feeling whirling in her head, it was like the long-supressed imagined box located in the deepest corner of her heart cracked open and all the emotions fleed out. The button of restless emotional struggle snapped on and no power could shut it off again.

The man she thought was dead stood in front of her, where his father was standing moments ago. The man she mourned for days was in his usual fancy, luxurious green robe and was staring at her with his green eyes that shined like cats.

"Loki." She whispered his name robotically, her heart cramped in a painful but rapturous way.

A wave of emotions occurred in his eyes.

"Loki?" She swallowed, tasting something bitter. She was crying.

He pulled his eyebrows together and pressed his thin lips into a sad line.

"Loki!" It was real. She wasn't dreaming, because her nails left deep mark on her palm when she fisted her hands and the angle of his nose, the color of his pupils, the shape of his lips were so real that it was no way she was imagining it.

Slowly, he held out his arms, welcoming her to hug him, his lips twisting into an unreadable smile. His deep green eyes melted into the forest under the cool spring breeze back home…

_Snap._

Her hand swelled immediately after she slapped Loki right on the face. A palm-shaped mark appeared on his left cheek. Loki held the strange position, his head tilting to one side.

"That hurts." Quietly, he told her, his tone reminded her of a boy being punished for some trouble he caused. Calmly, he straightened himself again and pierced his eyes directly into her soul.

_Snap._

Another slap with all her strength landed on the same spot she hit. The slap was hard enough that her hand was numb and swollen.

Loki's lips twisted when he tried to recover from the surprise and say something joking or mean, but before he could make a sound, her lips caught his.

She didn't know how to kiss a person. She had never done it before except in dreams, but the desire was too overwhelming that she lost her self-control. Clumsily, she sucked on his bottom lips and traced the tip of her tongue slowly through the edge of it.

Her warm body fell into his embrace, her lips hot like fire, burning out any pride and hesitation left in his brain. She was a clumsy kisser, but he was experienced so he dug his fingers deeply in the skin of her waist, causing her to gasp in surprise, and pushed his skillful tongue into her mouth.

So this was what felt like to be kissed, to get lost in the basic sensations and to be valued. No matter how many times she pictured this, it couldn't compete with the reality. His scent, his texture, his painfully seductive deep moans…

He could feel her courage began to shrink, for she tried to back down from their kiss. A rage that was so eyes-blinding washed through his mind that was just softened by her passionate reaction. If she wasn't ready for this, then she shouldn't have started it. Once the monster was woken, there was no putting him back to sleep.

Without asking, Loki lifted the elf up and walked into his bedroom in several long strides, ignoring her refusing little noises on the way. The elf held her breath during the journey and stared at him nervously. She saw a strange light glimmering in his eyes, a light she had never seen before; it was almost primitive, wild, frenzied and it scared her more than any of Loki's outburst of fury. Then, before she could gather enough bravery to ask him to slow down, he halted to a stop.

They were in the bedroom. The light held a warm shade of yellow, bringing an unrealistic glow to his pale skin, also making the palm-shaped mark obvious. Guilt drowned her. Gently, she held up her hand to touch the swollen side of his face. This gesture was familiar to both of them, and almost at the same time, they realized he, too, caressed her face like this in her dreams before.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, his arms slightly shaking because of the soft texture of her fingers.

"You can put me down. It's ok." Mistaking his shaking as a lack of strength, she suggested kindly.

Hearing her suggestion, his eyes flung open.

"Be sure of what you are asking. Once I start, there's no stopping me." It was the first time he tried so hard on just keeping his voice steady; his arms shook even more severely.

Finally understanding what he meant behind those words, she blushed and moved her gaze. After some serious inner struggle, she opened her mouth to ask one last question:

"Where is your father?"

He didn't answer immediately; maybe fighting the urge to correct that Odin was not his father, maybe speculating silently in his mind if she was a spy sent by Heimdall.

"You're trying to decide whether I'm worth it." He stated, eyes turning solid again. "You're trying to decided whether I'm good enough to sleep with you."

She could feel his hands balled into fists under her back, and his tone no longer passionate and heated, instead, it held nothing but desire, consuming, cold, sharp desire like the metal on his belt that was pinned in her skin right now.

Suddenly, the room in front of her turned to a blur. The next thing she knew, her body landed hard on the huge bed. A gulp of air gathered in her lungs, forming a shriek to call for help, but before she could make a sound, Loki's weight was added on top of her.

Kisses followed but not full of passion like the one they just shared. These kisses that landed on her lips and neck now were scary.

"Loki, stop!" She whimpered, trying desperately to get away from his iron grip on her wrists, but her struggle only made him crazier.

"Stop, Loki, please." She began to beg, hoping pleading could help him regain rationality.

He stopped sucking her neck and raised his head, jaw clenched, teeth gritted together, his eyes bloodshot.

"Please stop. You're scaring me." She didn't mean to cry, but this man seemed to have a way to lower her lacrimale.

Seeing the tears, the demon hid in his eyes vanished. Loki squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the air filling in and coming out of his lungs rather than the warm, soft body under him. She was so vulnerable, so warm, so soft, so _close_… He would hate himself forever if he didn't have her right here, right now… But her tears, the bloody liquid coming out from her innocent, bloody eyes… For a moment, he suspected her a mermaid and not an elf, because her tears always disturbed the peace in his mind.

Even if he wanted to have her, he wouldn't have her unwillingly. If—when he had her, he wanted her to scream him name like he was the only gulp of air, the only drop of water, the only force supporting her in the whole universe.

Finally, with an angry huff, he opened his eyes and saw those blue eyes filled with fear and desperation; he knew he lost any strength to continue.

Loki rolled over to the other side of the bed and kept his back to her. She waited for him to say something, but he didn't.

She didn't dare to move, so she just lain there. When Loki's breath began to become deep and slow, she got up from bed as quietly as she could and crept to the door.

The bedroom door was locked.

She sighed. Typical Loki. She should have done better than let him lead her into his bedroom. Now that he was asleep, or determined to pretend to be asleep, she didn't have the courage to wake him up. She was stuck in the small room without protection.

Silently, she went to turn off the light and sat on the armchair by the window. The moonlight was a little bit bright for her to fall asleep but she definitely didn't dare to draw the curtain and being left in complete darkness with the man who just tried to force her and possibly had murdered his own father.

With tons of heavy thoughts crowded in her mind, she fell asleep without even noticing it…


End file.
